Not the First
by iamthepirateking
Summary: Sarah was nothing special, and he doesn't miss her. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.
1. Chapter 1

Sarah Williams was not the first. She was not the first to defeat the Labyrinth; over his five hundred year reign there had been several others before her. She was certainly not the first to win the Goblin King's fickle affections. And the world did not fall down when she defeated him. She won, she left, life continued. All in all, there was really not a remarkable thing about her.

So why in the name of Hades could he not stop thinking of her?

It was supposed to all have been just a game. He'd gone through the motions a thousand other times with a thousand other foolish mortals. They were all the same; impatient, thickheaded, too preoccupied with their own notions of what the world should be to ever look hard at what the world actually was. And Sarah had been no different. Yet somewhere along their scripted journey, he had found himself saying his lines in earnest, putting genuine emotion behind the well-rehearsed routine. _Idiot._ _Never let yourself care. Wasn't that the first rule of the game?_

Well it was too late now. The damage had been done, it was his own stupid fault, and all there was left to do was to get over her. Move on. This meant he probably shouldn't be conjuring up yet another crystal to gaze longingly at her from afar. _Ah, what the hell. Just once more can't make things any worse._

There she was, reading a book as usual. Her plain brown (_dark, silky_) hair falling over one shoulder, her (_sparkling emerald_) green eyes boring into the page as if she saw in that jumble of words the door to a secret garden of endless delights. As he continued to stare at her, she looked up from her reading and glanced around the room, like something was making her uncomfortable. Finding no source for her paranoia, she shrugged her shoulders once and returned to her book.

A chicken squawked loudly behind Jareth's left ear. He cursed and dropped the crystal, which fell and shattered on the floor. Swiftly swinging his riding crop out behind him, he batted the chicken off of its ledge and sent it flying a good ten feet across the room. He stood up briskly, shaking the shards of glass off his boots. There were better things to be doing anyway. He ought to be busy making preparations for the Ball for the Midsummer's Festival, which this year would be held at _his_ castle. He knew that the other Fae were particularly eager to come this year because they were anticipating the chance to gawk at him and compare rumors, to analyze him and his kingdom's appearance against what they had heard about his latest defeat.

Fae loved games and deals, especially ones where danger was involved, but even they had questioned the wisdom of Jareth's Labyrinth. This game was set, and in many ways the rules did not allow for negotiation or sudden changes that would make the odds impossible for any mortal. This would not do at all because as any Fae knew, half the fun of a game was in finding clever ways to cheat it. But Jareth had always been a little peculiar, with his odd taste in mortal apparel and his ridiculous habit of bursting into song. And not proper Fae song either, the haunting, ethereal kind, but lively, _modern_ sounding tunes. If there was anything Fae were not, it was _modern_. They were ancient, mysterious, feral yet majestic. But although he offended all their prideful sensibilities, Jareth was still accepted by the Fae because he was amusing and, more importantly, extremely powerful magically.

Jareth sneered faintly with distaste as he thought of the many Fae that would soon mob his castle and raise a riot with their hearty celebrations. Often he enjoyed these lively affairs, but at present he found he just wasn't in the mood for such things. As he forced himself to focus on plans for the ball, he could not keep his thoughts from straying to that other ball not so long ago in a dream, where she had looked so lovely and lost and distressingly innocent in that pure white ball gown with her wide doe-eyes. He had held her, so briefly, in his arms as they spun around the room and she stared up at him with those eyes. He should have known then that he was going to lose. Lose the game, and lose her. But he had been too enraptured by just being able to hold her to think of anything else. _Blazes, he was doing it again. Thinking of that accursed mortal girl._

Pulling himself out of his musings, he looked around and found that his feet had unknowingly taken him to the large arching window in his study, the one overlooking the entire Labyrinth. Shrugging, he sat down on its large ledge and leaned back against the cool stone wall. He looked out over the Labyrinth and beyond it to the rest of his kingdom. And then he squinted, and adjusted his owl-like vision, because he thought he saw a very strange thing. There in the distance was a girl. And not just any girl, _that_ girl. Her. Sarah Williams. He stared very hard, trying to convince himself that this was not some weird mirage.

And then, just as he had decided that she must in fact be real, she disappeared.

A/N: I'm aware that not much happens in this chapter. It's really just the warm-up, my first dip into the lovely Labyrinth fandom. There will be more to come. In the mean time, review, review! Tell me what you think. Yes, I mean you! Please and thank you. :)


	2. Chapter 2

_Pulling himself out of his musings, he looked around and found that his feet had unknowingly taken him to the large arching window in his study, the one overlooking the entire Labyrinth. Shrugging, he sat down on its wide ledge and leaned back against the cool stone wall. He looked out over the Labyrinth and beyond it to the rest of his kingdom. And then he squinted, and adjusted his owl-like vision, because he thought he saw a very strange thing. There in the distance was a girl. And not just any girl, that girl. Her. Sarah Williams. He stared very hard, trying to convince himself that this was not some weird mirage. _

_And then, just as he had decided that she must in fact be real, she disappeared._

Sarah woke abruptly from her dream. She didn't remember much of it, but at the end she had been standing on a hill above some kind of large maze, with a tall clock standing beside her. Something was missing. A man with wild blonde hair dressed all in ominous black. He hadn't been in any of her dreams of the Labyrinth lately, something for which she was grateful. She liked to remember it for the friends she had made, and its cast of rather comical supporting characters. Not for its villain, (_even if he was a rather handsome villain.)_ She sat up and shook her head, clearing from her mind the last remnants of the dream. Then she slid out of bed and padded her way downstairs for some breakfast, all thoughts of the Labyrinth for the moment cleared away.

Jareth slowly lowered the crystal he had been peering into. So she was in her home, not the Labyrinth at all. He must be seeing things. That was just flipping fantastic. Now not only could he not stop thinking about her, he was hallucinating about her too. _Bloody hell, as if he didn't see her enough in his dre-_ Wait a moment. She had just been waking up, which meant she had been asleep and maybe dreaming. Could her dreams have brought her to the Labyrinth? But that was impossible…wasn't it? Come to think of it, he wasn't actually sure that it couldn't be done, just that it never had been done before. It was certainly something to ponder. But the Midsummer's Ball was tonight and there were last minute preparations yet left that really must be made. So with a sigh he rose gracefully from the ledge and strode out of the room, his mind still on Sarah and her mysterious appearance.

He thought of her as he consulted with the goblin chefs (the cleanliest of the goblin lot) about the changes in the hors d'oeuvres menu. He thought of her when he went to check on the progress of the decorating crew in the crystal ballroom. And while he talked to the hired musicians, and while he double checked the seating arrangements to make sure that no rival clans were placed near each other. In fact, there was hardly a moment when he did not think of her. But still he could find no logical explanation for the strange phenomena of that morning. The most likely reason was that he was quite simply losing his mind over her. Which would indicate that he had become rather more attached to the girl than he would willingly admit, even to himself.

Sarah did not think of the Goblin King at all. At least, not until she lay in bed that night, in the quiet moments just before sleep. Then she recalled her dreams. Lately, she had been dreaming of the Labyrinth more often and in more vivid detail than she had ever before, since her visit there four years ago. And the strangest part of it was that though she always visited places she had seen before, these places were not always the same as when she had been there. She had been to the forest where she met the fire gang when it was all covered in snow, seen the Goblin City in the midst of some kind of celebration, with banners hanging from the roofs and something that looked like confetti falling through the air. She had even been back in the Bog of Eternal Stench, and when she woke up she could have sworn that she still smelled it in the air. She had washed her pajamas three times in extra strength detergent before that stench went away completely. But in none of these dreams had she come across the ruler of the Labyrinth himself. He had featured in quite a few of her dreams in the past, some of which she blushed to remember, but none of these more recent, strangely realistic visions. And honestly, this left her feeling somewhat…disappointed. She thought of all this as she lay staring at the wall in her dark room, and soon she was drifting off to sleep. For the first time in years, she really wished that she could see him again, if only to know if he had changed. It was her last thought before she fell sound asleep.

She was flying over New York City in a bathtub, and then she was in the mall shopping with her grandmother, and then in math class taking a test that required her to do long division in Roman numerals. Then suddenly the scene shifted and became somehow clearer. She could _sense_ the world around her instead of just seeing it. She was in a round, spacious room with familiar-looking chandeliers. Besides these the ballroom was almost unrecognizable as the one from her peach-induced dream. It was draped in thousands of garlands of colorful flowers, and tall windows that she was almost sure hadn't been there last time were open to let a warm night breeze circulate the room. However the guests at the ball were behaving just as she remembered. They were rowdy and frightening and sometimes lewd as they spun past her, dancing, carousing, and laughing raucously. This time, though, they wore no masks and she could see that they were all incredibly beautiful in an alarming, otherworldly way.

A few of them had noticed the girl standing in their midst. They paused in their revelry to stare at her. This attracted yet more attention, and soon she had a little circle of Fae gathered around her, staring in open shock and interest. A man with black hair and golden eyes stepped forward, and reached out his long, slender fingers to touch her hair. Grasping a lock of her long tresses, he brought it delicately to his nose, and sniffed. His eyes widened.

"It's a mortal."

An excited murmur swept through the crowd at this announcement. Sarah pulled away from the man in alarm. She wasn't sure if they were going to hurt her or invite her to join their party, because she could not read their expressions. Many of them were smiling at her, but their smiles were sharp and not at all reassuring.

Jareth stood at the edge of the room, eyeing the festivities with indifference. He would occasionally nod politely at passersby, but otherwise he did not move at all. Then he noticed something of a commotion building at the other side of the room. There was a large group gathered around something he could not see, and people seemed to be getting very excited. He wondered vaguely if one of the goblins had a let a chicken loose in the ballroom. _That would certainly cause a stir,_ he thought with a smirk, imagining it. B_etter go over and see what the problem is._

As he wove his way through the dancers and came closer to the crowd, his smile dropped and he began to feel suddenly nervous. It was something about the way they were acting that made him wonder. They were smiling as if they had just found something new to play with, and he thought he heard mutterings of "mortal." He stopped dead at this, and his breathe quickened. _No, it couldn't be._ Still, he stirred back into action and began walking a little faster. If they had somehow found a mortal, any mortal at all and not just _her_, it could mean a great deal of trouble.

Finally he reached them and broke through the crowd to its center. Though he had been half-expecting it, he still wasn't quite prepared for the sight he found there. Sarah stood looking confused and a little harassed, but defiant as usual. She was different than he remembered; taller, her face a little more angular and well-defined, and her body matured. Her eyes were the same, captivating as always. Even in what was clearly her sleepwear, baggy gym pants and a snug-fitting t-shirt, she was beautiful. He wondered how many years had past for her. It had clearly been at least a few. Here it had been only one year. But time was funny like that in the Underground. Sometimes one year could be five, and sometimes a whole century could pass and would only have been a day Aboveground.

Suddenly he realized that a few minutes had passed in silence as he had just been standing there staring at her. But she had been staring too. The whole ballroom had gone silent as well, as the Fae watched the king's dramatic reaction to the appearance of this mortal girl. Rumors were buzzing through the room like frantic bees; talk of her being _that_ girl, the latest Labyrinth champion, speculations as to how she got there. Jareth did not hear them. His focus was momentarily encompassed by that one thing that everyone was talking about.

"Sarah," her name came out as barely a whisper.

Her eyes widened when he said her name, as if the sound of his voice surprised her. It was an endearing expression, but he could not really tell what she was thinking. Was she frightened of him? Did she think he was angry at her for beating his game, that he would seek revenge or something like that? It sounded silly, but he supposed it was possible. She always had seemed to gravely misunderstand his intentions.

He was staring at her still, and she did not seem able to stop staring back. He was just as grand as she remembered, today wearing a deep green jacket with a high collar and a faint shimmer to it. She had forgotten what it felt like to be in his presence, that faint thrill that went through her just to look at him, to hear his voice. He had a wonderful voice. It had been so long since their last encounter, and they had not exactly parted on pleasant terms. Seeing him now, even if it was only in a dream, she found she hardly knew what to say to him. He had spoken her name. He had said it in such a soft, sad tone. How was she supposed to respond to that?

"Hi," she said lamely, and felt herself begin to blush. _Hi?_

He laughed lightly at her discomfort. The shock and slight sadness were gone from his expression, replaced with arrogance. She felt a bit of anger spark inside her.

"Hello Sarah," he seemed to enjoy saying her name, "what brings you to my little celebration this evening?"

"I'm not sure," she answered honestly, "I just sort of arrived here. Actually, I think I'm still dreaming. A lucid dream, I suppose."

This statement was met by a flurry of laughter amongst the crowd. The mortal girl thought they were all a dream. How quaint. Sarah blushed deeper. Then her eyes narrowed, and she stood up a little straighter. She really hated it when people laughed at her.

"You may well be dreaming, but I assure you my dear, we are all quite real." Jareth spoke in a lazy drawl, cutting her off before she spoke and said something that angered his guests. The last thing Sarah needed was to have a room full of Fae with a grudge against her. She wouldn't make it to the end of the week alive. With this in mind, he made an attempt to lead her away from the crowd.

"Shall I show you to the refreshments? As long as you are here you might as well stay and enjoy yourself awhile."

Without waiting for a reply, he took her by the arm and pulled her away from the throng of curious guests. He kept moving until they had reached a corner of the room secluded by gauzy curtains, away from prying eyes. When he stopped, she wrenched herself out of his grasp and stepped away from him, arms crossed over her chest and glowering. Jareth exhaled slowly. Why was it that with her, the situation never seemed to be in his favor? He braced himself for an angry tirade. She just stood in silence, glaring at him.

"Well?" he asked. (_Might as well get it over with_.)

Sarah was fuming. By some weird magic she had been poofed into the ballroom of the Goblin King in the middle of her dream, and she had shown up still in her pajamas. He had laughed at her, and everyone in the room had laughed at her too. And before she could make any kind of a come back, he had dragged her away to the time-out corner like a small child. She felt so embarrassed that it just made her really angry. She wasn't sure how, but in some way this had to be his fault. It was his damn party after all. But for a moment curiosity overrode her anger, because there was one thing she had to know.

"So, I'm really here? This isn't just a dream?"

"Yes, you're really here," he said, smiling. Some of the sadness from before seeped into that smile, and a bit of the arrogance dropped away.

Sarah realized that her question had been rather pointless, because a dream Goblin King could tell her he was real just as easily as the real one. But somehow she felt what he said was true. It just _felt_ real. She couldn't explain it better than that.

"How did I get here?" she demanded to know.

"I haven't the slightest idea. Tell me though, is this the first dream you've had like this?"

"Um, no," Sarah answered, a little thrown off by the question, "I've had a few others."

"Did you have one yesterday, perhaps?" He prompted.

"Yes." She answered slowly, giving him a questioning look.

"Ah," he said, and did not bother to explain himself. For some reason, he looked relieved. "Well, enjoy the party then," He said briskly, and turned as if to leave.

"Wait! You can't just leave me here."

He stopped, and turned back around.

"Oh, but I wouldn't want to impose." His tone was mocking.

He couldn't help it, he was suddenly feeling rather bitter. Clearly she still hated or at least strongly disliked him. So he saw no reason why he should continue to stand there and receive her hatred whilst secretly pining away for her inside. He was supposed to be getting over her. There was no way he could do that if she kept popping up in his kingdom to taunt him with her beauty and stubbornness.

"Please, don't go," she pleaded. He softened immediately. (_Damn those eyes of hers.)_

"Alright," he said.

They stood in silence, neither one able to find something to say.

"How are my friends?" Sarah asked, as the silence was becoming rather awkward.

Jareth snorted contemptuously, "Higgle and the lot? Oh, they're fine, I should think. It is hardly among my priorities to keep track of them." He paused, and then added casually, "You made them what they were, you know. The Labyrinth shapes itself to the mind of the runner. That includes the creatures inside it."

Sarah was intrigued by this bit of information. "Does it? I didn't know it worked like that."

"There is much you don't know about the Labyrinth."

She raised an eyebrow at this cryptic statement.

"Yes, I suppose there is."

They lapsed into silence again. The music played on in the background, a melody that was haunting and sweet. Jareth's mouth quirked into an ironic little smile as he recognized the tune.

"Sarah," he asked, a bit hesitantly, "would you care to dance? For old time's sake?"

Sarah too had recognized the tune. Her feelings were mixed about the memories it invoked, but she couldn't see the harm in indulging his wish. Seeing her old enemy in this new situation, she found she had a strange sense of camaraderie towards him. Like they were old friends from camp instead of strangers who had met once under extreme circumstances, in a game with high stakes and no do-overs.

"Goblin King, I'd be delighted." She answered, no longer sounding angry. He flinched at the use of his formal title. He was almost certain she knew his name, though he had never heard her use it. Still, she had also said she would dance with him.

He held out a hand to her. She took it, and he drew her closer and began to move to the music. So near to him, Sarah suddenly became very nervous. She strived to hide it, and tried to look composed. It would not do to let him know how he was making her feel; rather good, and fluttery. It never had been clear to her whether all those things he said back then had just been part of the game or not. And besides, that was all in the past. This was just a sort of reunion for them, a one time deal.

Sarah was allowing herself to be lead, but would not meet his eyes. She chose instead to stare at a point over his right shoulder. It was incredibly frustrating, how she was showing no emotions at all while he, just dancing with her, was coursing with a million different emotions. Holding her and having her be so distant was almost worse than not holding her at all. He almost growled in frustration. Sarah was so stubborn. She couldn't even _try _to enjoy herself when life had randomly thrown them together once more, at a time when there need be no tricks or deceit between them. He pulled her a little closer, determined to make the best of the situation.

As they continued to dance, Sarah had to remind herself to keep breathing evenly. He was so close, so very close, and it was definitely affecting her brain. She was experiencing the urge to lean into him, or to reach out and stroke his hair; it looked so soft. But she kept her face schooled to a neutral expression. After a while though, she began to get lost in the dance. She unknowingly began to draw herself towards him. Then she laid her head on his shoulder. By this time she was humming softly along to the tune of the music drifting around them.

Jareth closed his eyes in delight. This was much better. She was dancing with him, she was enjoying it, and she showed no signs of wanting to run off or smash the walls down with a chair. He knew it wouldn't last, but he intended to enjoy it while it did. All too soon the song ended. They stopped moving. But Sarah did not move. She stood there with her arms wrapped around him, her head resting on his shoulder. It was perfect. Then suddenly she pulled away, and looked at him in alarm. _So she had come back to her senses. Bother. That had hardly been any time at all. _

"Is something troubling you?" He asked, expecting an answer like "You stole my brother, and tried to kill me, why the hell am I dancing with you?"

Instead, she said softly, almost regretfully, "I'm waking up."

She began to fade, and a moment later she was gone.

He returned to the ball, but the rest of the night was a blur. Finally the last of the guests departed, and he was left alone with his thoughts. His thoughts were all of her; how she had briefly seemed so peaceful in his arms, that last look of regret before she faded away. He cursed her, because now it would be twice as hard not to think of her, and because she had given him something that he knew would only hurt him more in the end. She had given him hope.

A/N: Many thanks to those of you who reviewed the first chapter. (And to Ariadna: Actually, I happen to know some Spanish, and so was able to understand your review pretty well. I don't mind at all that you gave your feedback in another language, I just appreciate that it was given.)

Suggestions? Comments? You know what to do.


	3. Chapter 3

In one of the smaller meeting rooms of the hall of the Great Council, a group of Fae were clustered, talking anxiously. They were speaking of what had occurred at the Midsummer's Ball, and their expressions were grave. All of them except one, that is. A young male with black hair and golden eyes stood slightly separated from the rest. His posture was relaxed, and he was smiling.

"You must admit, Feynon, it was rather amusing. The girl looked so very startled, and you all were gaping at her like fish."

"_You _may find this funny, Lior, but the rest of us recognize the danger in this situation. A mortal has found a way to travel freely between our world and the Above. Do you realize what that could do to us if others found out about it? We would be hunted down as we were Aboveground all those years ago, and then where would we run to?"

There was a murmur of agreement from ten of the twelve Fae gathered there. Lior continued to smirk, unperturbed by the scolding of his elder. Feynon gave a faint, exasperated sigh, and then turned away from him to address the others of the group.

"So, my friends, what do you propose we do about this threat?"

A woman dressed in the attire of a warrior spoke up. Her accent was distinctly Scottish, "I say we find the girl and dispose of her. Simple."

Lior snorted in a very undignified manner. The woman glared at him.

"Well?" she spat, "What is so funny about my plan?"

"Simple? How do you expect to find the girl among millions of mortals? And also, how do we even know she is a threat? If you ask me, she clearly had no more idea of how she got there than we did. Whatever brought her to us, it wasn't her own power."

The warrior Fae was about to snap a reply, but Feynon silenced her with a raised palm.

"For once, Lior, you raise some valid points, though I do not approve of their delivery. Still, the suggested action would seem to be perhaps rushing to conclusions. So this is what I propose; we will all scry for the girl, and amongst all of us it should not take too long to locate her. Then, we will bring her here and petition the Council for the right to probe her mind, by which means we will discover how it is she came to travel uninvited to the Underground. Further action shall be determined from that point. Does this plan satisfy all those present?"

The other Fae considered this. They did not all look entirely satisfied with the chosen course of action, but Feynon was a respected elder. Everyone gave their approval.

Jareth was brooding again. Actually he was strolling through the castle gardens, pretending that everything was perfectly alright. But his thoughts were sullen and extremely circuitous. Every thought he had led back to her, and those thoughts were stuck firmly in a cycle of hope and despair. _Maybe he should go and see her. Maybe after all the time that had past for her, she felt differently about him. But why should she? She had seemed surprised to see him, so she clearly hadn't sought him out, hadn't been trying to see him again. And yet, she hadn't seemed unhappy to see him again either. Not overjoyed. She had been quite mad for awhile, and then aloof. Except for that brief moment, when she had leaned into him, and rested her head on his shoulder. For that moment, she had actually seemed-happy? No, she had probably just been tired. It was useless deluding himself. She had rejected him once, and nothing had changed since then. And he refused to come crawling back to her just because she had showed up randomly in his life and danced with him. That was ridiculous, and undignified, and he wouldn't do it. But what if he was wrong? What if things had changed? Maybe he should go and see her-_

Growling in frustration, he kicked viciously at a rock in his path and sent it skidding into a bed of flowers. He really was going to go insane if he kept thinking like this. And behind all his tangled thoughts was the simple and strong urge just to see her again, in person. Never mind what happened after that. He just wanted to look at her, and to hear her voice. And since it seemed that he was likely to lose his mind before he succeeded in getting over her by just waiting it out, he made his decision. He would go see her. That was all there was to it. Nothing to it, really. Nothing, nothing, tra la la.

Sarah turned the key to her apartment with one hand, while balancing a bag of groceries with the other. Her friend Cathy stood beside her, also carrying a grocery bag full of snack foods, and a sleeping bag. She was _still _gushing about the many wonderful traits of the boy she had just been on a second date with. Sarah tried not to roll her eyes as she opened the door and entered the apartment. Then she tried not to scream, and failed.

"Holy shit!" she yelled, and dropped the grocery bag.

As she stood frozen in the doorway, Cathy peered curiously over her shoulder.

"What is it? Did someone break in? Should I call the cops?" Then she spotted Jareth, sprawled out on Sarah's couch like he owned it.

"Um, Sarah, do you know this guy?"

Sarah debated saying no, and having Cathy phone the police. The idea had its merits. But he would probably only disappear before they arrived.

"Yes," she said through gritted teeth, "I do."

Jareth rose smoothly from the couch and came up to meet the pair.

"Hello, Sarah." He said simply. Then he tilted his head ever so slightly to the left and smirked in a way that made Cathy giggle and bat her eyelashes hopefully.

"Well, if he's not a creeper, than I think some introductions are in order" she said, and continued to give Jareth her flirty pose. For some reason, Sarah found this rather irritating.

"Yeah, alright. Cathy, this is the Go- ah, this is Jareth. Jareth, Cathy."

"Charmed, I'm sure." Jareth said, and Cathy giggled again.

Sarah stared at her sternly, "Don't you need to leave now to work on that big term paper?" She hoped Cathy would take the hint. Though Cathy was normally about as subtle as an elephant in a room full of hedgehogs.

"Term paper? Sarah, it's the middle of Ju-Oh! Yeaah, _that_ term paper. Right." Cathy had been glancing back and forth between Sarah and Jareth. Jareth, who must have had a key to Sarah's apartment, and who was dressed in a rather low-cut white shirt, with a black vest and grey tights. _Tight _tights. Something had clicked inside her mind. From the way she was now grinning madly and winking at her, Sarah had a pretty good idea of what that was. She started to blush. Cathy took this as confirmation of her suspicions, and her cat-like grin only grew.

"I'll leave you two alone then. But damn, Sarah, I didn't know you were into that kind of-" Cathy's voice was abruptly cut off as she was shoved forcefully out of the room.

"_Goodbye_," Sarah said firmly, and shut the door. She turned back around to find _him_ still standing there with that smirk on his face.

"Thanks a lot, Goblin King," she snapped, "Now Cathy is going to think that you're like, my secret boyfriend or something, and I have some weird role-playing fetish and…and, more importantly, how the _hell_ did you get into my apartment? What are you doing here? How do you even know where I live!?"

Jareth watched with mild amusement as Sarah went from ticked-off to bordering on hysterical. He wasn't entirely sure what the other girl had been hinting at before, but judging by how flustered it made Sarah, he got the general idea.

"What exactly is this 'role-playing' you speak of?" he asked with a wicked grin, completely ignoring her questions, "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the phrase."

Sarah's blush deepened, "That's not important," she answered stiffly, "What is important, and I'm going to keep repeating this until you answer me, is _why are you here?_ How are you here!?" She stared hard at him, waiting for an answer. Then as she stared her expression changed, from determined, slowly to shock and awe. It was as if the realization of what was happening had only just sunk in.

"My God," she whispered, "you're really here." She clasped her hands to her head and looked at the ceiling, "The Goblin King is in my apartment. I must be losing my mind. But Cathy saw you too, so maybe not. So," she looked back down at Jareth, "so you're really here? But why? Why _now_, after four years of absolutely nothing? I mean, what the hell?"

Sarah had been pacing back and forth across the carpet. Suddenly realizing what she was doing, she stopped.

"I think I need a minute," she said. Then she ran out of the room, leaving an extremely bemused Goblin King behind her.

"Well that could have gone better," he muttered.

Sarah stood with her back pressed against the door, eyes closed.

"This is not happening," she muttered.

It wasn't as if she didn't remember the Labyrinth. She had thought of it quite a lot since that one night what now felt like so very long ago. But she had thought that those things were all in her past, that magic was only for children. And since she was no longer a child, her chance at magic was gone. And she had accepted that, had felt secure in that knowledge. Until now.

For some reason, as she worried over the Goblin King waiting in her living room she kept getting flashes of images in her mind; of herself appearing suddenly at a party, and dancing with him in her pajamas. She had a vague feeling she was remembering part of a dream she'd had last night. Dreams were one thing, but this was reality. He shouldn't be here, not now.

Sarah took a deep breath. It was time to go back in there and face the situation. (Even if the current situation involved talking with someone who until a few minutes ago she had been half-convinced was a figment of her imagination.) She still had some hope that when she opened the door again, there would be nothing but an empty room. Then she could dismiss this all as merely a hallucination induced by that slightly out-of-date milk she had downed with her cereal this morning.

Slowly, she turned around and opened the door.

Jareth was standing on the other side, waiting with arms crossed.

"It's rather rude to keep a guest waiting like that, you know," he said calmly.

"_Guest? _I don't recall inviting you to break into my home."

"And I don't recall inviting you to crash my ball last night. And yet you did, and as I do recall I was quite hospitable despite the inconvenience of the circumstance."

"Wait, that was _real_?" Sarah was genuinely startled by this news, "But how? How did my dream take me to the actual Underground?"

"As I told you yesterday, I don't know."

Sarah suddenly found herself remembering other dreams she had had involving the Goblin King and she asked nervously, "Was that, um, the only time we've met through my dreams?"

"Yes," Jareth answered, feeling quite pleased with the fact that she must have had other dreams about him. So she hadn't forgotten him completely, at least.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, causing him to wonder what exactly those other dreams had involved.

"So, um, can I get you some coffee or something?" Sarah asked, cutting off his train of thought.

"Coffee would be nice, thank you," he replied, and followed her into the small kitchen.

She put on a pot to boil. Then she turned to face him and leaned back against the counter, attempting to appear casual.

"Well, Goblin King, it's certainly been a while. How have you been these past few years?" She asked, as if she were chatting with an old friend.

"Actually, in the Underground it has only been one year," he told her plainly.

"Oh."

Sarah was unsure how she should feel about this. It made her uncomfortable that Jareth's defeat was fresher for him than it was for her. She worried that he might still feel resentful, even though he did not seem it. But the news also made a small part of her glad; the part of her that had hurt when he had let all those years pass without even trying to contact her. How important could she have been, she had reasoned, if she was that easily forgotten?

The silence between them grew tense, as they both thought back on their last dramatic encounter. Sarah had so many questions about what had happened then, and she realized that now might be her only opportunity to ask them. One question in particular had haunted her.

"Was it all part of the game?" she asked quietly.

Jareth had a far-off look in his eyes, and did not seem to hear her immediately.

"Jareth?" she prompted. His focus returned to her as she said his name.

After a thick silence he answered shortly, "Yes and no."

Sarah gave him a puzzled look, and was about to ask another question. Then the coffee machine began to beep, and she turned her attention to it. She poured two mugs and handed one to Jareth, who now sat at the kitchen table. He took it, but he wasn't looking at her. He was staring into space again, his face expressionless. She could not even guess what he was thinking about.

Jareth was experiencing some conflicting emotions. He didn't know quite what he had expected to happen, but this wasn't it. He supposed he had expected something more, well, dramatic. She would be very angry with him and yell a lot. Then, if things went well, anger could turn to passion and…But no. One moment she hardly believed he existed, and the next she was handing him a cup of coffee as if this whole thing was no big deal. But it was a big deal. At least, for Jareth it was. He had almost preferred when she thought he must be some kind of a hallucination. That, at least, had been briefly amusing.

As Sarah watched Jareth's face, his blank expression was suddenly replaced by one of mischief. He stood up abruptly, and turned his gaze on her. She took an unconscious step backwards.

"Sa-rah," he drawled, "how are you certain this isn't just another dream now? Maybe I'm not really here, and you are imagining everything yourself."

Sarah eyed him warily. That was exactly what she was still half afraid of, and it was very surreal hearing him voice her thoughts. What kind of mind-game was this?

"I don't know. This seems pretty real."

"Ah, but all dreams _seem _real when you are in them."

"Yes, but in my experience most dreams don't tell you they're a dream," she responded, but her voice was uncertain. Jareth was approaching her slowly, his steady, unnerving gaze never leaving her face. She found herself taking a step back for each step he advanced. Then she felt her back touch the wall. She cursed silently, and forced herself to appear confident and meet his eyes in defiance. He grinned and leaned forward, placing both hands against the wall, trapping her there.

"Well, there's a first time for everything. Really though, you must ask yourself, is it more likely that you are dreaming, or that I have actually materialized in your apartment with no apparent purpose or ill intents, an entire four years after you ran and defeated my Labyrinth?"

Sarah hesitated. She opened her mouth to answer, but the words could not find their way to her lips.

"What's more," Jareth continued, "If this wasn't a dream, would I really be doing this?"

He reached out a hand and slowly traced a line down her cheek. The light contact made Sarah shiver. She stood perfectly still and just watched his eyes, transfixed, as he continued to trace patterns on her skin that left her with a delicious tingling sensation. Then his arms moved to encircle her waist, and he swooped down to plant a soft kiss on her neck. She gasped. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair. It was as soft as she had imagined. She ran her fingers through it, just because it felt so good. Jareth briefly closed his eyes, and seemed to purr. Sarah smiled.

The doorbell was ringing. Sarah was dimly aware of this as it reached its second ring, and by the third she was emerging from her dazed state. Jareth sensed this and pulled her closer.

"Just ignore it, they'll go away," he whispered into her ear, and placed another light kiss on her jawline. She responded by twining her arms around his neck and pulling him toward her. Their eyes met and locked. Sarah could feel her heart beating hard against her chest. His eyes were unearthly; clear blue but with one pupil larger than the other, making one eye seem dark. She felt drawn to him, and felt herself leaning closer.

In the background there was an annoying sound that she had almost forgotten. She hesitated for a moment, and listened. It was the doorbell… The doorbell! Someone had been ringing it for ages now, and somehow it had completely slipped her mind. The noise seemed extremely loud and grating, now that she was focused on it.

Jareth stood very still as she leaned into him, afraid he might scare her away. He drank in the sight of her, the feel of her warm skin, and the gleam in her eyes. Then she paused, and the look in her eyes shifted. She pulled away from him, and broke out of his grip before he could react. She hurried away to get the door and left him standing there, and for a few moments he could not move. Her sudden absence was almost a physical pain to him. He breathed deeply, trying to slow his quickened heartbeat and regain control of his senses. When she was out of earshot, he slammed his fists against the wall and muttered a choice curse. They had been _so close._

Sarah fumbled with the doorknob, her hands shaking, and threw the door open. It swung back hard and hit the wall with a thump. Cathy was standing on the other side, hands on her hips.

"Sarah! I've wrung the doorbell like two hundred times. How flipping large is this apartment?"

Cathy stopped mid-rant and raised her eyebrows as she took in Sarah's flushed face and harried appearance. Then she continued in a lighter tone.

"Well anyway, I just forgot my purse. It's right under that table, could you grab it for me?" She pointed to an end table. Sarah dutifully grabbed the purse and handed it to her, still looking quite distracted. Cathy eyed her quizzically.

"Something wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, no. No. Everything's fine. Okay well, I gotta go. Movies on Tuesday, right? See you then. Bye now," and she gently closed the door on her friend.

When she turned around, she found Jareth standing in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at her.

"You!" she accused, her eyes flashing in anger, "You tried to trick me!"

"Yes, and it would have worked too if it weren't for that damned girl and her purse," he replied smoothly, seemingly unrepentant.

"Don't call my friend a 'damned girl.' Her name is _Cathy_, and I'm glad she came back when she did or-"

"Are you really? Glad?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sarah sputtered. Jareth smirked knowingly in reply. Sarah's returning stare was cold.

"Of course I am. Urgh, I can't believe I almost fell for that 'this is all a dream, let your inhibitions go' crap. I'm so stupid. I should have known the moment you appeared that you would be just as much of a devious, conniving, creep as you were before."

Jareth stopped smirking. After a moment of silence, he asked quietly, "So that is how you really feel about me?"

"It is," Sarah replied firmly, her eyes still burning with anger and embarrassment.

"I see."

He stared at her another long moment, his clear blue eyes full of some strong emotion. Then he was gone.

The empty air glittered faintly in his wake. Sarah stood staring at the spot where he had just been, expecting him to pop back up and continue their argument. But an hour went by, and he never did. So she retired to her room to read a book and try to ignore the nasty crawling feeling in her gut that she expected might be guilt. She could not focus, and eventually fell into an uneasy sleep in her chair.

When Sarah woke, it was evening. The room was dark except for the glow of a streetlight that streamed in from her window. She stood up and stretched; her muscles were a little cramped from sleeping in that chair. Then she suddenly remembered all the events of the past day, and she had to sit down again. That's when she noticed the lean, shadowy figure sitting on her bed. Only the tips of his black boots could really be seen in the light of the streetlamp. Sarah froze. The magic in the air around her was almost palpable; it was like she could smell it.

"Jareth?" she asked cautiously.

"I'm afraid not," said a smooth voice. The man stood up and walked into the light. He was a Fae, that was for sure. He had long, elegant limbs and a beautifully sculptured face. His jet black hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, and his amber eyes glowed in the darkness of the half-lit room. He looked somehow familiar, but Sarah could not quite place him. She supposed he must have been in her real-dream from the night before.

"Who are you?" she asked, trying not to let her voice betray her fear.

"That's hardly important," he replied, and smiled a very sharp-toothed smile.

"What do you want?"

"Ah, now that's more relevant," he approached her slowly, confidently, and Sarah realized she had nowhere to run to. "You," he said simply, in answer to her question. Sarah sucked in air for a scream, but she never released it. The man placed a finger to her temple, she felt a rush of cold seep through her body, and then she blacked out.

A/N: Muhahahahahaa!

Also, a lot of characters were added this chapter, but don't worry. The focus will remain on Jareth and Sarah. They're the important part, after all.

And once more, a quick shout out to my few reviewers. Thanks for the feedback! 3


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello dear readers. I hope you still remember this story. I apologize for the delay, which was due to AP testing and a sudden bout of sickness. The schoolwork has eased up now though, so things should move more quickly from here on out. Enjoy!**

Jareth sat sprawled on a throne in what was dubbed "The Goblin Room," as it was the only place in the castle the goblins were allowed to run completely amuck. He did not generally make social visits with his subjects, but sometimes their loud noise and constant motion was a useful distraction when he did not want to think. If he was in the right mood, sometimes he even sang to them, which the idiot creatures seemed to enjoy.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Today, the distraction was not working. The words "devious, conniving, creep," and "no power over me" were repeating themselves over and over in his mind, in Sarah's voice. _But if she was so repulsed by him_, he wondered, _why had it seemed for a moment back in her apartment that she was about to kiss him?_ It seemed that she was at least physically attracted to him. That was something. So then, was his morale character so reprehensible that she could only act on her impulses if convinced he was an illusion? It was a depressing notion. Though really, he supposed he couldn't blame her. The majority of her experience with him had been in the Labyrinth, and those experiences hardly spoke in his favor. But why couldn't she see past all that? Had he not, at the end of their game, taken a chance and exposed to her his very heart and soul? Did that mean _nothing_?

There were too many questions without answers, and still more questions that he did not like the answers to. And it seemed that all there was for him to do, once again, was to sit and brood over his misfortunes. It was not a very kingly action, brooding. But he could not help it. It was just, _that girl_. That girl was so…infuriating. Wonderfully, beautifully infuriating. And unknowingly cruel. Cruel as he had once told her he could be.

As he lingered on these thoughts, he could feel his brooding grief slowly coming to boil, morphing and hardening into anger. _She had no right to make him feel this way. Who was she, a mere mortal girl, to reduce the King of the Goblins, the Lord of the Labyrinth, to sulking in the shadows? _He would not stand for it. He would go to her again, and set the record straight. He would _make_ her see reason. And if he could not? Well, there were other, more powerful means of persuasion that might be employed.

As Sarah drifted into consciousness, the first thing she was aware of was that she had a painful headache. The second, as she opened her eyes, was that she was not in her bedroom. In fact, she did not know where she was at all. She lay on a sort of cot, in a small, bare room. The only other furnishings were a single wooden chair and a chamber pot. There were no windows, (though the whitewashed walls seemed to emit a dim light of there own, so she wasn't completely in the dark.) It wasn't exactly a prison cell, but it was pretty close.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she got out of bed and tried the handle of the only door. As she expected, it was locked. With growing panic, she made her way around the room tapping on the walls, to check for secret doors. No such luck. Her search became more frantic. She checked under the bed, even climbed on top of it to feel the ceiling. Nothing. Finally, she flopped back down on the mattress in defeat. All she could do now was await her fate, whatever that might be.

Several hours passed. Or maybe it was only a few minutes. Time was impossible to gage in the small room where the light did not change. She must have dozed off, because when she opened her eyes again there was a plate of food by the door, and she had not heard or seen anyone come in. She brought the plate back to her cot and sat down, staring at it warily. It was filled with small cakes and an assortment of fruits, only some of which were recognizable; fairy food. But just looking at it, she suddenly realized how very hungry she really was. Despite fears of hallucinations or worse, she picked up a piece of fruit and took a bite. She chewed, swallowed, and waited. When nothing extraordinary happened, she concluded that the food really was just food, and dug into it with the relish of someone who had not eaten in hours.

Jareth materialized in Sarah's apartment in a cloud of glitter and rage. Thunder rumbled dramatically outside as he stalked through the rooms, flinging open doors and switching on lights. Every room he tried was empty. Eventually he was forced to acknowledge that she just wasn't home. He deflated considerably. A glance at the clock told him it was exactly 2:00 AM. Where could she possibly be at this hour? Almost unconsciously, he conjured a crystal in his hand. Then he paused. Come to think of it, this was another question he really might not want to know the answer to.

Until this moment, he had not even considered the possibility that Sarah might have a serious boyfriend; that maybe she wasn't interested in him because she had already found someone else. Jareth's grip on the crystal tightened. The glass cracked, and then exploded in his palm. And still he was burning with an insane anger just thinking of the possibility that…It was unthinkable. He wouldn't even consider it. He couldn't.

Then an even worse possibility occurred to him. Maybe she wasn't here because she was hurt, or in some kind of trouble. Without another thought, he conjured up a new crystal. The image inside was hazy. It was getting some kind of magical interference, but he could just make out a small room, and a dark haired figure sitting on the floor of the room, curled in a ball.

This was not good. In fact, this was what might safely be considered very, very bad. His crystal would only get interference in a building that was protected by magic. Which meant that wherever Sarah was, she was in the Underground.

Sarah lay on the cot, staring up at the blank ceiling. For what must have been the five hundredth time, she wondered exactly how long she had been here. But there was still no way to tell. Her thoughts drifted aimlessly. They drifted often to the puzzle of the Goblin King's sudden reappearance in her life; first in a dream, and then in her own apartment. _And what an appearance it had been._ She found herself trying to analyze every one of his words and actions. He had said hello so casually, as if it was totally normal that he should be there. Then he had almost kissed her. But it had been part of his trick. He had probably just been messing with her head, something he seemed so fond of doing. _Was it all part of the game? _"Yes and no" he'd replied. What did that _mean_?

Her musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. Then without waiting for a reply, the door opened and the Fae she recognized as her kidnapper walked in. Ambled would be a more accurate adjective. He didn't seem capable of doing anything in a manner that wasn't completely casual. Sarah sat up and crossed her arms to show her irritation with his presence, giving him her patent defiant stare. He stood by her doorway and seemed to appraise her with a critical gaze. Then a sly grin overcame his face. _Why do all these damned Fae smirk so much? _Sarah thought irately. The Fae spoke.

"So you're the one Jareth's been pining over. He always was a bit odd, that one. I'll admit that you're quite pretty, for a mortal, but hardly worth obsessing over."

Sarah replied only with an icy glare, but she was turning over his words in her mind. Jareth_, pining_? It didn't sound like the Goblin King she knew. But then, how much did she really know about him after all?

"Not sure why Feynon and the lot are making such a big fuss over you either," he continued, "You seem to have rather a knack for causing trouble, don't you?"

The Fae did not seem to care that Sarah continued to be unresponsive. In fact, he seemed to be talking more to himself than to her. Sarah was getting rather annoyed with the way he was treating her, and she spoke.

"If I'm so insignificant, than why did you take me, and why are you here now?" She filled her tone with as much venom as she could muster.

The man looked at her with mild surprise and amusement, as if she were a parrot that had just spoken a word its master hadn't taught it. After a moment though, he answered her.

"Somebody had to go. I volunteered to be the one to fetch you because I was curious. It's not every day a mortal turns up in the Underground unbidden. It's the kind of thing to cause quite a stir. As for now? Information. The Council won't be holding your trial for another two weeks at least, bureaucratic system and all that. I wanted to figure this puzzle out _now._" His tone was almost childish as he explained his impatience, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes that gave Sarah pause. Still she plowed on, hoping perhaps that she could talk her way out of this situation.

"Well I'm sorry to tell you this, but you're wasting your time. I don't know how I got here either, so interrogating me isn't going to help," her voice came out sharper than she had intended. She was still angry.

His response was not what she expected. He didn't look angry, disappointed, or disbelieving. He just smiled coldly.

"Interrogation? How primitive. Tell me, pet, why would I _ask_ you what I want to know, when I can just look inside your mind and find out for myself?"

"Oh, and I'm sure this council of yours will be just fine with your taking action without there permission. Is that right?" Sarah countered, covering her fear with bravado.

Lior laughed with delight, "My, you are a feisty one, aren't you?"

Sarah finally recognized the effect her defiance was having on the Fae. He was _interested _in her. And she did not like at all the way he was looking at her now. She resigned to be meek and hopefully lose his interest. But he just stood there staring at her, an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air.

"Well get on with it, then," Sarah said, unable to cope with the silence, "Whatever you're going to do, do it." She stood up to face him properly. This proved to be a bad move. He was across the room in a flash, hovering over her with that sickly smile.

"No need to hurry things," he said in that smooth, slow tone, "Surely there is time for _other_ pursuits, before we get things started."

Sarah tried her best not to grimace and shrink away, as her mind whirred in search of a way out.

"Wait!" she cried, "Do you hear something? I think someone's coming." It was a weak ploy, but it did work for the moment. Lior paused to listen. Unfortunately, there was only silence. Then, just as he was turning back to her, they heard footsteps. The footsteps came nearer and then stopped. Sarah's eyes were wide. She could hardly believe her luck. As the sound came of a key turning in a lock, the Fae disappeared in front of her with a small popping sound. Sarah slumped against the wall, breathing deeply. But before she could even catch her breath, the door opened again.

It was only a servant bringing food and water. When they had left, Sarah ate quickly, and then sat down to think. That man had said her trial would be in two weeks, but there was no knowing if he would come back for her before then. Probably he would. She wasn't safe here. But there was no way to escape.

Jareth had never been a very patient person. This was why he generally made a point of avoiding the Underground legal system. It had more sidetracks and dead ends than his Labyrinth.

He took a deep breath and tried once more to explain the urgency of his request to the young apprentice councilor with whom he was speaking. He was met once again with a polite smile.

"I'm sorry, my Lord, but as you well know the Council does not meet for another two weeks. All issues of the kingdom are to be addressed at that time," the girl told him.

"Yes, I know. But I don't wish to present an issue to the council, I just want to talk to one of the Council members. Feynon, Jasminda, Ossarin, aren't _any _of them around?"

"They are about their duties, sir."

"And where are these duties taking place?" He prompted.

"I'm not certain, my liege," the girl replied.

"Gods damn it all!" Jareth turned around and stormed away, leaving the startled girl behind.

Hours later, Jareth returned to his castle with no results, seething with frustration. He would have to try one of his personal contacts, though even these were difficult to get in touch with. The various kingdoms kept mostly to themselves, and their boundaries were sealed by magic. He would have to send out goblin messengers if he wanted to get through. This left him with nothing to do but pace nervously, and try to think of any other options he had missed.

Sarah sat listlessly on the bed, feeling as though she was slowly losing her mind. The silence, the anticipation, not knowing whether it was night or day, everything was driving her mad. Mostly it was being left alone with her own thoughts for so long, with nothing to distract her. She stared blankly at the floor, willing herself not to think of _him. _Not wanting to admit that she'd had a vague notion that he was coming to save her, that he should have been here by now.

She did not notice immediately when the empty patch of floor she was staring at wasn't empty anymore. Then the turtle moved its head, and she noticed it. She also noticed, with a surprising lack of emotion, that the turtle was wearing tiny spectacles that somehow stayed on its face, though of course it had no ears. _Maybe there was something weird in that fruit, after all, _she thought_. _

"Who are you, then?" she asked the animal, not much caring about the answer.

"_Reality is a personal construct of the mind. It exists only as we exist, and is therefore malleable to our conscious state of being._"

"Um, pardon?"

"_A stone is not always a stone,_" the turtle said, then turned and ambled away. When it reached the wall, it simply glided through like it was a sheet of water instead of solid wood.

"Fat lot of good that does me," Sarah muttered, "You were about as helpful as that old wiseman, if you could call him that."

After a while she lay down and closed her eyes again, because there was nothing else to do. Soon she slept.

In her dream, Sarah was walking through a beautiful field of flowers. The turtle was walking with her, and he kept repeating what he had said. He would not explain what it meant. When she couldn't stand the thing anymore, she tried to force herself to wake up. Instead of waking, her dream changed scenery. When she realized where she was, she tried to get back to the lovely field, but could not. She was in the Escher room, the staircases twisting up and down and every which way, all around her. She remembered vividly the scene that had played out there what felt like so long ago. But now the room was empty. Why was that? An idea was beginning to itch in the corner of her mind.

Sarah knelt down and touched the floor. The stones were cold and solid beneath her fingertips. Real. Was it possible that she was really here? Than this was like that other dream she had had. But did that mean than when she woke up, she would go back to the little room? She closed her eyes and focused. She could see herself, sleeping, in the blank white room with the cot. She tried to think about connecting that self with the one standing here, in the castle beyond the Goblin City. Though she concentrated, no feeling of change overcame her. Then she thought about what that irritating turtle kept saying. Reality is whatever she thinks it is. She just has to know that she is here, and not in that other room. Upon thinking this, she suddenly believed it to be true with an overwhelming certainty. She felt the pull on her other self, and it was sort of sucked back into her. She could no longer see the little blank room; all connection to it was lost.

She stood there in the middle of the Escher room, unsure of what to do next. _Perhaps she could go search the halls for goblins, and one of them could help her find-_ As if on cue, into the room stepped the Goblin King himself. He stopped dead when he saw her, unable to conceal his complete and utter shock.

"_Sarah_?" He strode over to where she was standing, and then stopped a few feet in front of her. He looked as though he wanted to reach out and touch her, to make sure she was real. But he did not.

"Where were you-how did you…?" He still seemed to be in shock.

"I don't know where I was. All I saw was one small room. A man came in and said something about a council and reading my brain. Oh, and apparently I can travel by dream." The words came out in a rush. She grinned at him, happier to see him than she had ever been in her life. Here in this crazy place, he was at least something familiar.

After a moment, he smiled back. "You certainly know how to make an entrance, I'll give you that." He gazed at her with open admiration and something else that made Sarah look away. Jareth noticed her reaction. His face shut down and became unreadable. He continued talking in a more neutral tone, "As for where you were, I'm guessing somewhere in the Hall of the Great Council. It sounds as though they were going to probe your mind."

"Is that bad?" she asked.

"It is if your mind is something you value. Most mortals can't handle it, they go insane."

Sarah shivered. It was quiet in the large room, though the very walls shifted before her eyes. They stood facing each other, and echoes of the past seemed to whisper around them. She was sure he felt it too. The look in his eyes had darkened; there was unmistakable pain there. She found herself staring into those deep eyes, entranced, unable to look away.

As Sarah stared at him, Jareth felt that he was falling into her eyes. He remembered again how he had allowed himself to be so vulnerable as to expose his feelings to her, even when he had known that it was hopeless and the game was lost. She had looked at him with those eyes, and that was all. He lost control of his own power of reason. It was happening now too. And before she could stop him, protest or run away, Jareth reached out for her. He pulled her close to him, and kissed her.

The kiss was desperate, urgent; as if he thought she might disappear again at any moment. She did not respond. But when he pulled away from her, he saw that her eyes were closed and she was breathing fast. He could almost see the war going on between her mind and body. Jareth interpreted this as a challenge. He pulled her close again, and for a moment just held her. Then he kissed her: lightly, teasingly, a series of small kisses each one a little longer than the next. And suddenly she was kissing him back. With the same fiery passion with which she had defied him, she was kissing him. It was almost surreal to him. Surreal, and wonderful. He tightened his embrace, and felt her cling to him in return. Eventually they had to part for air. They did so reluctantly. Still they stood close together, staring into each other's eyes. Sarah smiled at him. She leaned in and placed a soft kiss just at the edge of his mouth, and another very light one on his lips. Now _she _was teasing _him. _He laughed, and captured her lips again. They kissed passionately, until abruptly Sarah pulled away.

"Wait," she said. Jareth did not like the look in her eyes.

"_What_?" he growled. He could feel his heart sinking slowly to the ground. Was it really going to be like this, after what had just happened?

"It's just that you're, you're-"

Jareth could feel his anger rising. How could she _still _be stuck on her past conception of him, as nothing but a storybook villain, a plot device?

"I'm what, exactly, Sarah? You don't know me. You know nothing about who I really am."

Sarah saw him standing there looking sad and serious, rejected once again. She was flushed and breathing hard, and she could still feel the tingle of his lips on hers. She felt close to tears, and her voice was tight and a little choked when she spoke.

"That's just it, Jareth. I _don't_ know you. How can you expect me to love you when I barely know the first thing about you?"

"_I _love _you." _His voice rose barely above a whisper. The way he said it sounded helpless, defeated. As though he would rather not, if he had any choice in the matter. He looked away from her, unwilling to see the pity in her eyes. There was silence. Sarah was frozen. She did not know how to respond.

"I think you should go," Jareth said finally, his expression stony.

Sarah nodded briefly, and walked away with her eyes on the floor. When she got out of the room, she turned left and just kept walking until she came to a room with a large window. There she sat on the ledge, looking out over the Labyrinth. Only then did the tears fall, more from raw emotion than sadness. She felt so muddled up inside. A few days ago, everything had been perfectly normal. Now she was back in the world of the Underground, with the threat of danger still looming large, and yet that wasn't what concerned her. What was more troubling was that the Goblin King still loved her. Because he wasn't just a villain to her anymore, a merciless creature. He was a man. And somehow, that was so much more frightening.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay, so I'm just a terrible updater. I apologize. Next time I start a new story, I will have more of it physically written out before I start posting. In the mean time, enjoy!**

Sarah had feared that after the scene in the Escher room Jareth would not let her stay in the castle. Once again it seemed she had misjudged him. She was provided with her own room and all the amenities she might need. Nonetheless, the situation was uncomfortable. The king seemed to be avoiding her. He sent goblins to show her around the castle and give her whatever help she might need, and never showed up to dine with her. When they did happen to meet in the halls, he was distantly polite and dismissed himself from her presence as soon as he could.

She wondered often over the days that passed whether she should just ask him to take her home. Except there was still the danger of that Fae Council. She severely doubted that after they had lost her once they would just give up, though she wasn't quite sure why they had taken her in the first place. Would Jareth protect her if they came looking for her here? She honestly couldn't say. He had said he loved her. But she had rejected him yet again, and that had to have hurt his pride.

Love. She wasn't sure their definitions of the concept coincided. Sarah recalled vividly his last confession to her in that same room. "Fear me, love me, do as I say," he had asked of her. But for Sarah, those things just didn't fit together. How could you both fear and love someone, and why would someone who loved you want to be feared? It seemed to boil down to control. Thus, she was not convinced that he really loved her. It seemed more that he wanted to own her. And that was something she could never allow.

On the fourth day of Sarah's uncomfortable visit at the palace, Jareth was in his study when his alarm spells informed him that someone was trying to enter the castle grounds at the west gate. He had been expecting something like this. Calmly, he transported himself over there. He appeared just behind the visitor, folded his arms and arranged his features into an expectant, slightly annoyed expression.

"Well?" Jareth asked.

The other man spun around to face him, briefly startled. But he quickly composed himself, and then chuckled.

"Ah Jareth, still one for the surprise entrances, I see. How fares the Goblin Kingdom these days?" His tone was friendly, but his eyes were sharp and calculating.

Jareth frowned slightly before replying, "It goes as usual. Usual for goblins, that is; riots, gambling, destruction of Crown property. I've a busy schedule, Lior, so if you've business here than I suggest you get to the point."

Lior's amber eyes flashed in anger at Jareth's dismissive treatment of him.

"Don't play games with me, you know why I'm here," he hissed, and watched the King's face for some reaction. Jareth's expression did not falter or give anything away.

"I'm afraid I know nothing of the kind," he replied coolly.

Lior glowered at him, and then suddenly he smiled. It was not a friendly smile.

"Oh come now, we all saw your little drama at the Midsummer's Ball. You can't pretend that you don't know she's here, or that you're indifferent about it. You should have seen your expression when she first appeared. Quite heart-wrenching, truly. And you thought we wouldn't put two and two together and realize who she was?" He paused in his speech to gage Jareth's reaction. His expression had not changed, but his hands were clenched at his sides in tight fists.

Lior smirked, and continued. "Strange thing about the girl, she seemed able to travel to our world at will. Everyone knows we can't have that. So we took her in for probing, but now she seems to have disappeared. It would seem very unlikely that she did that on her own with all our magical securities in place. So the question was, who could possibly take an interest in this girl's escape? Naturally, only one conclusion could be reached." Here he stopped, and looked meaningfully at Jareth. His mock playful demeanor switched off abruptly.

"What have you done with her?" he snapped.

"I've done nothing," Jareth stood tall, unyielding.

"Than you should have no problems letting me conduct a search of your castle."

"I will not allow you to trespass on my property."

"Don't be a fool!" Lior spat, "You know as well as I do how harsh the penalties are for thwarting the law of the Council. Is one pretty mortal really worth all that?" Clearly, Lior himself did not like the idea of having to go back to the Council without having completed his mission of bringing back the girl. It would be embarrassing, to say the least. But Jareth remained firm, and Lior knew better than to try to force his way by magic. Jareth's power surpassed his own by far. Still, Lior refused to let himself get too rattled. When it was clear he would have to turn back empty-handed, he took a step back and shrugged as if the whole thing mattered little to him.

"Fine," he said, "it's your head on the block, not mine. You know I'll be coming back here with more of the Council and a mandate, and then you'll let us in by choice or not," he flashed his teeth at the king, a wicked glint in his eye, "Perhaps if I'm very good, they'll let me keep your pet as a toy for a few days before the probing. I will say that she was quite an amusing little thing when we met."

This time Jareth could not restrain himself. He made a move to strike the other man, but Lior disappeared before he could make contact. Jareth stormed back through the gates and into the castle, clenching and unclenching his fists. Any goblins that got in his path received a swift kick that sent them flying. But by the time Jareth had reached his rooms and was reclining on a couch, his temper had cooled off a little and he was already questioning his own rash actions.

Was denying an order of the Council really such a good idea? Lior was right about the harsh consequences of such things. And since when had Jareth ever risked his own neck for someone else's? _He just hated being ordered around by that slimy gutter-scum Lior_, he reassured himself, _This had nothing to do with any lingering attachment he might have to the girl. That would be preposterous after the number of times she had bluntly rejected him now. No, he would do no favors for __**her.**_ _Still, the Council would no doubt be sending a search party, and if he refused to let them in serious trouble would ensue. Something would have to be done about the girl. _Jareth grimaced. He would have to talk with her. He had more or less avoided doing that for days, but it could not be avoided any longer.

Sarah was in her rooms when a goblin messenger came to tell her that the King wanted to see her in his study. After doing its duty the messenger quickly left, leaving Sarah flustered. She had been debating with herself about going to talk to Jareth, but she hadn't expected to be summoned by him. She started to feel sort of twitchy and nervous just at the thought of meeting him, and caught herself fixing her hair in the mirror. She stopped. What did it matter how she looked, if she truly didn't care what he thought of her? Okay, so she found him…intriguing, she had to admit. But that was all.

When Sarah reached his study, she hesitated at the door and then knocked lightly. A voice from within the room told her to enter, and she did.

There he was, leaning back in his chair like he owned the world. It was that same smug expression that had driven her up the wall while trying to complete the Labyrinth. She wondered for a moment if anything ever fazed the man. Then she remembered the way he had looked in her eyes, and the way he had kissed her. She suppressed a shiver. Manipulative egomaniac or not, he was a wonderful kisser.

_Do you hear yourself? _Her inner voice scolded, _Forget the kissing and remember the first part of that sentence, will you? He's a manipulative egomaniac. Just look at the man. _Sarah looked. His pose was relaxed, and he was watching her with that expressionless gaze that told her he was hiding any real emotion he might be feeling. For what must have been the millionth time, she wished she could get inside his mind and know what he was really thinking.

Jareth could not see Sarah's thoughts anymore than she could see his. He just saw her standing there looking expectant and slightly nervous, clearly not understanding why she had been called. When he saw that he had her attention, he spoke.

"The Council has discovered you've gone missing, and now they're trying to pin your disappearance on me. If they find you here I'll be in more trouble than I care to think about. We're going to have to relocate you." He spoke dismissively, as if the matter was of little importance.

"Relocate? To where?" Sarah asked. Before she had finished speaking, the landscape changed before her eyes. She was now in what appeared to be an oubliette. She jumped a little when she heard Jareth's voice from right behind her shoulder.

"Before you have a fit, no, this is not where you'll be staying," he said. Sarah bit her lip. That was exactly the objection she was about to make.

"Well, good," she said, then added, "You know, I really hate it when you do that."

"Do what?" he asked, suddenly all innocence.

"That! The whole thing with the random change of scenery and sneaking up on a person-Oh, never mind. Let's just move on."

Jareth raised his eyebrows at her, clearly amused.

"As you wish," he said, "right this way." With that, he opened a door in the wall that Sarah had not known was there, and stepped through it. She followed.

The door lead to what turned out to be an entire underground house. There was a bedroom, kitchen, and food storage room. There was also a large, empty room that did not seem to serve any purpose at all.

"So this is your summer home?" Sarah asked dryly.

"Hardly. It's an emergency resort."

"In case of what, a chicken revolt?"

Jareth shrugged, "There are many hazards to being a monarch."

Sarah smiled at his affected air. Then in the silence that followed, she remembered on what terms they had last parted. The silence, however, did not last long.

"So then, I'll be going now. Business to attend to. Should you need anything, ring for one of the servants," he motioned to a little brass bell by the door. "I'll see what I can do about your pursuers, and return here with any news. In the mean time, _stay here. _Don't go wandering around the Labyrinth and if you can try to control it, don't dream-travel either. Do you understand?"

Sarah folded her arms, feeling like a child getting a scolding.

"_Understand?"_ Jareth persisted.

Sarah threw her arms up, "Yes, alright? I get it. But what makes you think I'm safer here than somewhere else?"

"This place is directly under the Labyrinth. The Labyrinth has certain powers," here he looked as if he had more to add, then stopped. "It will protect you," he finished shortly. He nodded brusquely, then turned heel and walked away, the door shutting itself behind him.

Three rooms and a pantry was really not all that much space. Sarah discovered this quickly over the next few hours. She sat in each room for a while, she paced around the whole house, and finally she lay down and just stared at the ceiling. This underground house was hardly any better than that little cell she had been in days ago. It was dead boring.

Jareth, meanwhile, was dealing with problems more pressing than boredom. Almost as soon as he had returned to his castle, the party of Councilors had arrived at his gate, irate from having to come all the way down here themselves. They doubtless considered themselves too important for this kind of a fetch and carry job. Jareth appeared before them.

"Sir, open this property to public inspection at once!" demanded an elder Councilman.

"Certainly. I only delayed because the messenger you sent lacked the proper command papers, so I had no way of knowing under whose authority he operated."

The older Councilman was not fooled. "Don't play games with us, boy. Just open the gate."

Jareth shrugged elegantly, and then allowed the gate to swing open. He gestured for the Council members to enter and gave a slight bow. They came in, all scrutinizing the king with suspicious stares.

After hours spent scouring every last inch of the castle and its grounds, the Council members assembled again before Jareth and gave him one last warning.

"We will continue our search elsewhere. But if we find that you knew anything about the girl's whereabouts and did not reveal it, or in any way assisted her escape, you will be charged with full disobedience of the Court."

Jareth nodded to show his understanding. The Councilors left one by one, but most still seemed convinced of his guilt in the incident at hand. Jareth didn't care as long as they continued to hold no proof against him. They could grumble all they wanted, but they couldn't convict him without some reasonable proof.

Sarah sat in the empty room. It being by far the largest of the three rooms, she felt the least claustrophobic there. It was rectangular, and about the size of a professional basketball court. The floor was marble, though the walls were just packed dirt. She was leaning against one of these walls that she first heard it; a faint buzzing like a swarm of bees trapped inside an insulated jar. It was so faint that she had to stay perfectly still and listen very hard to hear it at all. But it was there. And it wasn't just the noise. There was something odd about the air. It felt too close and pressing, as if the air itself wanted to cling to her skin.

Sarah found that when she concentrated on this feeling and the noise, a kind of electricity began to build in her fingertips. She lifted her hands to stare at them. They looked unchanged. But when she gently clapped her hands together, they sparked with a strong static-electric shock. She gasped. Suddenly unnerved, Sarah got up off the floor and quickly left the room. She felt more comfortable in the kitchen, where the walls were covered with wooden panels and she could not hear anything buzzing.

It wasn't until the next day, late into the evening, that Jareth returned to Sarah's hideaway. He knocked once and then went straight into the first room, the kitchen. Sarah heard him, and came into the room with arms crossed, already fixing him with a glare.

"Council members have searched the castle and left. They've moved on." Jareth said, without so much as a cursory 'hello.' Perhaps he had read the look on her face and knew it wasn't worth the effort.

"Great. Just marvelous. Can I leave now?" Sarah was ticked. She did not take kindly to being left in an underground hole for 48 hours with absolutely nothing to do. She had gotten enough of that treatment at that Council Hall place.

"I'm afraid not. They might send a second search party back at any time, and they will have set up detection spells in the castle to know if you return there."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" she asked, trying to remain calm and rational.

"Wait. They'll lose interest in the hunt after a while, depending on how soon they find something more urgent to attend to."

At his words, Sarah felt a panic creeping in on her.

"But who knows how long that could take!" she exclaimed, "I don't want to be trapped here forever!"

Something harsh and intense flashed in Jareth's eyes, and Sarah knew she'd said the wrong thing. Had he not once offered her forever?

"Believe me, Sarah, I understand that that is the last thing you would want," he replied coolly, "Let me reassure you, however, that we will not have to spend much time in each other's presence. You have to stay hidden, and I will be attending to my usual affairs of state."

"Jareth," her tone softened, "that's not what I meant. There's just not much to do down here. Frankly, I'm bored. Some books would be nice. And a clock. I hate not knowing the time."

"Oh, is that all?" he asked, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. Then he disappeared.

"Would a simple 'So long, see you later' have killed him?" Sarah muttered, "I thought royalty were supposed to have manners."

When she went back to the bedroom, she found the wall now held a long bookshelf. It was filled with books of all kinds, from fairytales to a heavy volume on botany. The books were all published in the Underground, it seemed. For one thing, the book of botany contained only plants she had never heard of, with uses ranging from curing a cold to improving your singing voice.

Many of the fairytales involved creatures venturing Aboveground, and being terrorized by mortal children. A witch had her house eaten by two children, and when she tried to stop them, they threw her in an oven. A magical wolf was hacked to death by a woodsman just for asking a little girl for directions in the forest. Sarah had to laugh. The same old tales she had grown up with looked very different from the magical creature's perspective. There were also tales that she was entirely unfamiliar with, like the one about the gnomes who met a dragon and won half of his treasure horde in a game of wits.

The books kept Sarah occupied for hours that day and the next. Here was a whole wealth of knowledge about this foreign culture, this other world that was the Underground, and Sarah was fascinated. But still by that next evening she could not help feeling a little lonely. The clock she had asked for stood in the kitchen, but it did not make her feel more comfortable, as she had hoped it would. There, plain as day, was a reminder that things here were not the same as they were back home. There were thirteen hours. It made her think of that clock on the hill what now felt like long ago, and that voice telling her "You have thirteen hours to solve the Labyrinth, before your baby brother becomes one of us, forever." She had been so terrified then that she would fail. It was still hard for her to reconcile that image of Jareth with the one she held now; the one who had threatened her brother with the one who helped hide her from a dangerous group of Fae. She wasn't sure what she thought of him now, but it wasn't as simple as what she had thought of him then.

Jareth did not return that day, or the next. When he did appear the day after that, Sarah was in the empty room, just sitting listening to the buzzing and feeling the electricity build up in her hands. She still hadn't figured these phenomena out, but she wanted to. When he came into the room, she stood abruptly and held her hands behind her back. Then she realized how tense she looked, and relaxed her position.

"Hi," she said, and was surprised at the sound of her own voice. It had been so quiet.

"Hello, Sarah," he returned the greeting stiffly, then fell silent.

"Any news for me today?" Sarah prompted, after a while.

"Yes," he said, still very serious and formal, "I thought I should inform you that they have expanded the hunting party, and begun to search Aboveground. However, I have made arrangements to ensure that your family is safe."

Sarah's heart clenched at the thought of her family being placed in any danger because of her.

"You're sure they'll be alright?"

He nodded slowly. Sarah breathed out in relief.

"Thank you", she said in earnest. He acknowledged her gratitude with another short nod.

"Is there anything else you require?" he asked, gesturing towards the other rooms, "a certain kind of food, perhaps, or something of that ilk? I know it's not a pleasant prospect, but you may be here for some time."

Sarah thought this over. "I think I'm okay for now," she said. The pantry was already stocked to overflowing with all kinds of normal, Aboveground fare. It seemed that Jareth had done some research in the matter.

"Though, come to think of it, do you suppose you could get me some normal clothes?"

Her bedroom here had come with an armoire stocked with dresses. Beautiful as they were, some of them she could not even get on by herself, and she just didn't feel comfortable wearing such fine things to simply lounge around the house. For now she was continuing to wash and wear the jeans and t-shirt she had been abducted in.

Jareth frowned, "I'm afraid that my going to the surface to retrieve your normal attire would attract too much attention. I'm currently under surveillance. They suspect me, though they haven't been able to prove anything."

"Oh."

"You are unhappy with what I've provided?"

"No, they're beautiful. Too beautiful."

Jareth tilted his head slightly, puzzled. "A strange objection, but I'll see what I can do." Then he turned towards the door. Sarah was startled that he was leaving so soon.

"Wait," she said. He turned back to face her.

"Is there something else you need?" His manner was politely distant, as it had been this entire visit. Sarah floundered under his cool gaze.

"No, I don't need anything. It's just," she hesitated, and then plunged ahead, "could you stay a bit longer?" She looked at her feet. He was silent, so she continued.

"It's very quiet here. Maybe we could-play chess or something?" She hated the meek, eager tone of her own voice, but she really was desperate for company of any kind. Jareth raised both eyebrows at her, seeming both bemused and disbelieving.

"If you wish," he said, his tone skeptical that she would wish such a thing. A table complete with chessboard and two chairs appeared to the left of where they stood.

At first they played in silence. Then Jareth asked how she enjoyed the books he had left her, and they were soon engaged in a lively conversation over the things Sarah had learned in her readings. The hour was late when he stood up to leave. Sarah suddenly felt shy again after their long and animated conversation. Her love of books had made her forget whom she was talking to. Still, when they were at the door she asked,

"Could you come back tomorrow, even if you don't have any news?"

Again Jareth gave her a look as though he was trying to figure her out and the pieces didn't quite fit.

"Certainly," he replied softly. Then he was gone.

That night, Sarah dreamt. In her dream, she was sitting in a garden inside the Labyrinth. On a white bench at the other side of the garden sat a beautiful woman with long, black hair that came down to her waist. The woman leaned back on the bench and dabbled her feet in a clear pond. She did not notice Sarah. There was something strange about the lovely woman that she could not place. She was clearly a Fae, but that was nothing unusual in a place like this. Sarah looked closely at her until she noticed what it was. It was the air. The air near the woman seemed to crackle and warp around her subtly, as if her very presence was a disruption of some physical law. Staring at her was a little like staring directly into the sun; it hurt, but you still had the urge to do it.

The next morning Sarah remembered her dream, but only barely. She brushed it off as unimportant.

Jareth sat on his throne listening to a debate between two farming goblins; one's chicken had wandered into the other's yard, and the other one was claiming that now it belonged to him. He scowled. Chickens were not native to the Labyrinth. A few had straggled in after a farmer trying to win back his son, and the things had been multiplying outrageously and wreaking havoc in his kingdom ever since.

"Someday I'm going to institute a ban on the feathery cretins," he muttered. That shut up the two arguing goblins. All goblins seemed to have an unnatural fondness for the birds. In a rare moment of silence, the pair looked to their leader with anxious eyes. Jareth tried not to roll his eyes as he made his verdict. Not that they would notice or understand the insult anyway.

"The chicken goes to Yurok," here the other goblin made a sound of protest, and the king narrowed his eyes at this sign of insubordination, "_or _you can cook the thing and split the meat between you." He made a gesture to show that they were dismissed. They each bobbed an awkward bow to their king, and then shuffled away. Several more of his subjects were waiting their turns for a trial. They were shoving each other and yelling to decide who went next.

Jareth sighed and drummed his fingers against the arm of the throne. His kingly duties had always been dull and unrewarding, but today in particular they seemed to drag on with a determined air of unpleasantness. Maybe it was just that after the disturbance in his life that Sarah's appearance had caused, normalcy seemed all the worse in comparison. Not that things had completely returned to normal. After all, she was still here. Not here in the castle, but at least here in his Labyrinth. And he was going to see her again tonight. She had _asked _that he return, just to spend time with her. It was almost unthinkable, but there it was. _Not that that means anything, _he told himself quickly, _she would probably have asked a troll to come back and talk to her if it happened upon her hideaway. As much solitude as she has been subjected to lately can drive a person near mad, _he thought, and added bitterly, _I should know. _

It made him feel pathetic that he still hoped she might change her mind about him. He wanted to believe he was angry enough with her for rejecting him _again _that he would never forgive her, would be able to cast his feelings away and forget her although he had never succeeded in doing so before. He had even hoped before that maybe if he kissed her once his curiosity would be satisfied and that would be that. He should have known it would not be that simple. Still he tried to deny that she really meant anything to him. What else could he do when she continued to refuse him? But he could not stop himself from remembering the taste of her, and lingering in his mind on that one moment of true connection they had shared.

_Perhaps he could not control his treacherous thoughts, but he could certainly control his actions. _He told himself. There was no reason that _she _should know of his weakness.

_So_, he resolved, _he would go, he would talk to her, but he would not show more than polite interest during their time together. He would make quite sure that she did not see the power she still held over him. _


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you for the feedback and to those of you who pointed out a few of my embarrassing editing overlooks. Anyway, here is the next installment. Enjoy!**

Jareth did visit again several times. And what struck Sarah most about those visits was how _normal _they seemed. It was in itself strange how easy it was spending time with him. They had normal, pleasant conversations, sometimes over coffee or snacks. Jareth told her a little about his childhood in another Fae kingdom, and Sarah told him about growing up with her divorced dad, occasionally going to visit her bigshot-actress mother on weekends and holidays. Sometimes, during these conversations, she would pause to marvel at the fact that she was really here, making small talk with the Goblin King like he was just anybody. There was a part of her that missed his previous dramatic flair and intensity. Something about this new character just wasn't _him. _But there was also a part of her, she found, that despite this was growing rather fond of his continuing presence in her life. It was odd, little things that brought this affection to the surface; the way he cradled his coffee mug in both hands when he brought it to his lips to drink, the way his eyes lit up when talking about something that interested him.

Sarah could not help but wonder, occasionally, how much he still felt for her. Surely her denial could not have dissipated _all_ of his emotion? It was hard to tell by the way he behaved. Most of the time he was merely friendly and polite. But then she would look up when he thought she was not watching him, and see a complex mix of sadness and longing in his gaze. Or she thought she did. He always caught her watching, and immediately his face would become unreadable, and she would be left unsure that she had seen anything at all.

And then there was the matter of her strange and growing powers. With practice, she had come to the point of control where she could gather the electric feeling in her fingers and shoot it out like lightning. The floor of the empty room now sported many singe marks. She was frightened by her own sudden ability, and she did not know what it _meant. _It seemed somehow to be connected with the earth, or the Labyrinth. It was stronger at times when she was closer to being outside, such as when she was near the dirt walls of what she had come to think of as her practice room. And with her powers came recurring dreams of the mysterious woman in the garden.

All of this was maddening and worrying, but still she did not tell Jareth about it. She wasn't sure how he would react, and she wasn't sure she really wanted to know the answers to her own questions. And as things stood now, they seemed to have reached a kind of general truce that she did not want to disrupt. If he stopped visiting her, she would very likely die of boredom.

It had been three weeks now since he first stuck her here. Sarah was finding more and more the need to remind herself that she needed his company to make this bearable, because she was becoming increasingly irritated with the situation. Sometimes she even doubted that those Fae _were _still searching for her.

At first Jareth's attitude towards her had been strictly careful and polite; cautious, distant, and reserved. He seemed uncertain of his welcome, and he acted accordingly. But as the days wore on and she seemed still to actually _want _to be around him, he became surer of himself, and more openly cheerful. Sarah may not have welcomed the situation, but to him it must seem almost ideal. _After all, _Sarah thought with some bitterness, _isn't this really what he wanted in the first place? Me trapped, completely dependent on him and his-generosity, as it were. _

It was thoughts of this nature that were bouncing persistently against the walls of her mind when he came to visit today, at the end of that third week. He knocked and entered, and as usual she was waiting for him. What else could she do? In her mood, she felt that he seemed criminally happy to see her there, awaiting his entrance; in rooms he had put her in, in a dress he had provided for her. It happened to be a forest green gown that she could tell he liked. Of course, she wore it not because he liked it, she told herself, but because it was one of the simpler ones to put on.

"You look lovely today, Sarah," His tone was friendly, and free of the dark, suggestive edge that used to accompany most of his statements towards her. Why did that only irritate her further?

Sarah ignored his pleasantries, and got right to the point of what was irking her. "Jareth, please tell me, when can I go back home?" she asked firmly. He looked disquieted for a moment, but it passed quickly.

"I honestly don't know," he replied, as he led her into the other room, where a game of backgammon was already set up and waiting.

"Shall we?" he asked, but Sarah refused to sit down.

"Really, I need to know," she insisted, "It's been three weeks already. What about my family? They probably think I'm dead."

His reply was still light, not acknowledging her plaintive tone.

"Remember, time works differently down here. As it happens, it has been only three days for your family, and since you no longer live in your father's home, they have hardly noted your absence."

This stung a little, though he hadn't meant it to. So much had come to pass for her, and he was telling her that her family probably didn't even miss her. That she didn't matter. Her irritation only increased. Subconsciously, she could feel the tingling of electricity beginning to build in her fingertips.

"Still, when are those people going to give up? Haven't they grown tired or distracted by now?"

"Really, Sarah, I already told you that I don't know. I can't read the future any more than you can. So will you please drop the subject?" Now there was a hint of annoyance in _his _voice. It seemed that Sarah was putting a dent in the delusion he had built of her actually _wanting_ to be here.

"No, I will not drop the subject," Sarah pressed, "Because though you may not care how long I'm stuck in this sodding hole of a place, I do. I'm tired of being your _pet, _Jareth."

Jareth, who had been reaching to pull out a chair, paused in this action. He looked up at her, and seemed to be in the grips of some inner struggle. It appeared that his self-control lost, and abruptly all the good humor was gone from his features.

"You dare?" he spoke softly, and took a few steps towards her. She had to force herself not to recoil. After weeks of good behavior, she was taken aback by his sudden display of emotion. His eyes flashed, and he continued in a dangerous hiss of a voice,

"Ah Sarah, Sarah Williams. It's always the same with you, isn't it? You come here, to _my_ land, to taunt, beguile, and reject me. And then, after all that you put me through, you have the sheer gal and selfishness to not only be _ungrateful_ for what I do for you, but then to _complain_ about my behavior."

Sarah scoffed, "We seem to have a strong difference in perspective here, Your Highness," she used the title scornfully, "I still fail to see what about the way you treated me last time deserves any thanks."

His posture was tense now, coiled, "I'll spell it out for you, then. I came and took your baby brother because I am bound to do so. But the journey you experienced to retrieve him could have been entirely different, could have been much more hazardous, life-threatening even. Oh, you may have thought you were in mortal danger, but were you ever, really? I saw in your dreams a thirst for adventure, and so I gave you just that. Dutifully I played the harsh villain you so longed to oppose and defeat, to prove yourself. And that ball. What young girl doesn't want to play at Cinderella? But that dream was for you."

"That was to distract me so I would run out of time and lose!" Sarah cried.

"Yes. But do you think there weren't easier, less pleasant ways to distract you for the time? There are many dangerous creatures in the Labyrinth. You did not come across even the half of them. I let you live your dearest fantasies, even when at the end I realized it had cost me perhaps more than I was willing to pay."

Sarah found herself feeling sympathetic for the fallen king, and this somehow only made her angrier. Why should he deserve her pity?

"Oh, come on," she said, "What could you possibly have expected from me? As you pointed out yourself, you were playing the villain the whole time, and for goodness' sake Jareth, I was _fifteen. _Did you really think I might say _yes?" _She did not wait for an answer before continuing. These were things she had been waiting a long time to say. "And what were you really offering me, anyway? 'Just let me rule you?' That seems like a pretty twisted way to make a proposal, if that's even what it was. Unconditional devotion and obedience is hardly a reasonable thing to ask of someone, especially someone you have only known for thirteen hours! Oh, that's right, make that _ten_! I mean-I mean-" Here she faltered, not sure how to express anymore of what she was trying to say. But what she had said was enough. Jareth's anger brought him nearly beyond speech. He glowered at her and struggled to find his voice.

"If I was indelicate in my approach," he managed finally, "it stemmed only from the sincerity of my emotion," These elegant words were released in almost a growl. He could not believe how obtuse she was being, and how tactless. If he heard some sense in what she said about their last encounter, he refused to acknowledge it, burying this recognition under fierce indignation. And if Sarah noticed his dangerously escalating level of anger, she did not take heed of it.

"Indelicate! _Indelicate? _Is that what you call it? It was utterly nonsensical! Can't you understand the paradox in what you were offering? Fear and love, obedience and freedom? How could you give me my dreams if first I had to give up everything I knew, my family, my life, and in return I would get-what?" Sarah's own anger was burning now, fueled by the years of muddled emotions and uncertainty that one moment, that proposal, had caused her. She would _never _admit it to him, but there had been times when she doubted whether she had made the right choice, and she hated herself for that.

"_What_ indeed?" His tone was so sharp now that Sarah could not help but take notice. And his fury was such that there seemed to be a dark aura gathering around him. She began to question the wisdom of pissing off a Fae. He continued, and she found herself inching away from the force of his speech,

"What did I offer in return? Nothing of consequence, surely. Nothing that a silly, selfish little girl like you would understand. I don't know why I even bothered, really. Certainly it wasn't so that I could have my words thrown back in face years later by that same girl who thinks now that she is _all grown up_." He put mocking emphasis on the last three words.

Sarah was truly scared now. She read something close to murder in his expression. As he advanced slowly towards her, she raised her hands without thinking.

"Stay back," she said, like she was warding off some evil spirit, "Stay back or I'll"

Jareth stopped, cold amusement flickering in his eyes. "Or you'll what? Recite prose at me? Sorry, precious, but that only works in the game. The game is over."

Sarah was quivering now, but she recovered enough of her presence to make a last angry rebuttal.

"That's another thing. How was I supposed to know then that we weren't still playing the game, for my brother?" she said defensively, "I thought it was just another ploy to distract me, an act you put on for all the young girls. You can't tell me you haven't used similar tactics before."

The king exhaled slowly, and the look on his face went from murderous to merely severely annoyed. The girl refused to be frightened by him. Clearly she had no idea what he was capable of. Or maybe she did know and she just didn't care.

"And what if I have?" he snapped, "You were once so dedicated to drama and theatre. Couldn't you tell the difference between acting and something real?" It was said with venom, but there was something almost pleading in the look in his eyes.

Struggling against the tide of feelings this provoked within her, Sarah clung once again to her old convictions. Pushing him away was the only firm ground she knew.

"I was practically still a _child_," she said, "And how old were you, exactly? Some might call that unnatural."

She knew she was being cruel, knew it especially by the hurt that showed plain on his face. But he had failed to answer any of her long-held questions, or ease any of her fears. She still was not sure that if she succumbed to him she wouldn't be _consumed_ by him, would lose everything that made her her own person, that made her Sarah. And so she pushed him away, again and again.

These past few weeks had been a kind of exquisite torture for Jareth. Like a fool he had reveled in each smiling glance she threw his way, had observed dotingly the way she tucked her dark hair behind her ears when she was thinking, had hung on her every word of ordinary conversation. He had played nice, knowing he wasn't being quite himself, but finding warmth in the idea that she was beginning to think of him not as an adversary, but as a friend. He had felt too her growing restlessness, and knew their little arrangement could not last much longer. But he had tried to hold on to it because even having her here in this somewhat artificial way was better than not having her there at all. Besides, the Council _was _still searching for her. Admittedly the search had cooled down some, but they would notice if she just returned to her regular life. A mortal who could travel to the underground was _dangerous, _and not something they were about to give up on easily.

Jareth was stung by her words, and more by her continued defiance. He felt his anger rising again. Here he was doing his damned best to help her, and she stood there insulting him and critiquing his past behavior. It was insufferable. And worse yet, was that even as he was furious at her, he could not help noticing how beautiful she looked in that dress that matched her eyes, her long hair freely flowing around her. Although she also looked slightly ridiculous, with her hands still outstretched to ward him off. _As if she could, _he thought scornfully. He laughed darkly, and made a swift lunge towards her.

He startled her, and before Sarah could stop herself, bursts of lightning fire shot from her fingertips. They sizzled out inches from his skin, never touching him; he must have had some kind of magical forcefield.

For a moment after the attack, he just stood there. The look of pure astonishment hung briefly on his countenance. And the next thing Sarah knew, she was pinned to the wall by magic, and his face was mere inches away from hers; he looked more truly unearthly and threatening than she had ever seen him.

"Who or what are you, and where is Sarah Williams?" he demanded, "Are you a shapeshifter, a bodysnatcher? You had best talk now, because I _will_ find out one way or another, and if I have to force you it will not be an easy or pleasant experience."

Sarah had to struggle for breath; the air around her felt like it was thickening.

"Jareth, it's me," she choked, "Please, let me explain."

He just stared at her grimly, and the choking air tightened around her. Her hands reached up to grasp at her throat, and if she hadn't been held up by magic, she would be slumping against the wall. Still she struggled for speech.

"Listen… you know I've been, moving..through my dreams. Something else, is happening too…" Here she paused because she could not talk anymore. She felt on the point of fainting. All she could do now was look up at him, eyes pleading.

As their eyes met, something in his hard expression gave way just an inch, and suddenly she could breath again. But still she could not move. She breathed deeply, and watched him warily, unsure of what his next move would be.

"This may hurt a little," he said. And without further warning, he placed a cool finger on her forehead, and Sarah shuddered, because it felt as though something warm and slimy was suddenly trying to climb its way up her throat. She coughed, and released a sort of golden haze that hung in the air an instant before evaporating. Jareth stepped back, and Sarah found to her relief that she could move again. Apparently she had just proved her identity. But when she looked into his face, she found that he was still far from happy.

"Sarah," he began, but she interrupted him.

"Yes. I'm me. I believe we've established that," she joked, taking a stab at lightening the mood. Her comment was received with a frown. She fell silent.

"If you had known before this about these other powers you just displayed, than _why _didn't you come to me about them?" It sounded like a scolding, and something in his tone, a little exasperated, seemed to ask 'Don't you trust me at all?'

"I, um…" Sarah mumbled, and could not meet his eyes. Looking at it now, she could not think of a good reason why she_ hadn't _just asked him about it.

" It can be incredibly dangerous to wield powers you don't know how to control," he continued, and added with a sardonic smile, "You might hurt someone."

Seeing even this slight amusement return to his face, Sarah relaxed a little.

"You're right, it was stupid," she conceded grudgingly, and followed with a hesitant grin. But it was a smile he did not return. Their most recent argument still seemed to be preying on his mind. Or maybe it was his recent use of magic that drained him, because he looked a little pale.

"Are there any other vitally important secrets you have been keeping?" He inquired, with evident sarcasm. Sarah's thoughts traveled briefly to her recurring dreams of that woman in the garden. But he did not seem to actually want an answer, so she merely shook her head 'no'.

"I think I will be going then," Jareth stated, after a heavy pause, "But we really must discuss these emerging powers of yours. You must learn how to handle them." And with that, he departed, leaving Sarah to her own reflections in the now silent room.

In his quarters, Jareth sat pensively in a chair by the fireplace, bent forward with hands clasped under his chin. He had not let on to Sarah, but the problem here was much deeper even than their troubling argument. The fact that she was developing inhuman powers meant that she had stayed too long in the Labyrinth, that it was changing her. And when she had released that white fire at him she had looked, for an instant, so much like…like someone he had not set eyes on in a long, long time. It was this that had shocked him so severely. He did not know what to make of it. On a mental command, a wine glass and bottle appeared on the table. He poured a glass and drank deeply, then leaned back in his chair. The fire cast flickering shadows across his angular features, and the room was steeped in a dense silence.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Once again I seem to have outdone myself in the lateness of this posting. But this chapter is also twice as long as any before it, so hopefully it sort of evens out. College is in full swing now, which means of course, work. But because of you, my dear readers, I haven't given up on writing this. Thank you also for the reviews. Each one is truly warming to my author's heart, and encouraging to my will to write. But enough from me, on to the story! As always, enjoy.**

Sarah was in the dream garden again, with the mysterious woman. She stared at her for a while, puzzling over who she could be. They had never met in real life; of that she was fairly certain. She would have remembered. The woman was uncommonly beautiful, even for a Fae. Her brilliance was painful to behold. For a moment, Sarah shifted her gaze to the springy green grass at the foot of her own bench.

Once her eyes had recovered, she looked back up. And found, to her surprise, that now the woman was looking at _her. _Sarah froze up like a small animal that knows it has been spotted as some predator's next meal. But the woman did not seem upset that Sarah was trespassing in her private garden. In fact she smiled, and beckoned for her to come closer. Without a thought, Sarah obeyed. The woman was even more stunning up close, and she almost had to close her eyes to be able to think at all. The woman seemed to sense her discomfort, and smiled beatifically. Suddenly Sarah was able to look at her without it being physically painful. She smiled back at the woman in gratitude.

"Do you like my garden, Sarah?" the woman asked, and her voice contained the clear, low tones of a flute. As most of Sarah listened raptly, some small part of her brain registered a question.

"You know me?" she asked in wonder.

This elicited a light, musical laugh, "But of course. It would be shameful of me not to know the name of my savior."

"Your-your savior?" Sarah stammered, completely taken aback.

"Naturally. Oh, I have waited so long for the right one. And you do have such an imagination, such a fine mind. Our Labyrinth doesn't take to just anyone, you know. We are extremely selective."

Sarah was staring again, but now in blank confusion. The woman noticed her look, and laughed again, a bubbling, joyful sound.

"Poor darling, you don't understand any of this, do you? All the emerging symptoms: the dream transportation, the sudden powers, they don't mean anything to you. Yet perhaps it is better that way. We wouldn't want you to feel _overwhelmed _by what is to come. You mortals can be such fearful creatures."

The pitying glance she gave her then would have had Sarah boiling mad were it anyone else who bestowed it. But from this woman, she did not mind in the least. She just nodded vaguely, not really concerned with what was or wasn't being said. The woman laughed once more, and patted her affectionately on the cheek. Sarah found herself becoming drowsy. And before she understood what was happening, she was falling asleep in her dream world, and waking up in reality.

Sarah sat at the table in her small, underground kitchen, a mug of coffee in front of her. She was wearing her one blouse and jeans today, because it was the comfiest thing in her closet. Raising a hand to her temple, she suppressed a groan. For reasons not entirely clear to her, she had a terrible headache and a general feeling of weariness. And for once, she remembered her dream with perfect clarity. It didn't improve her mood. Away from the dazzling presence of the Fae woman, Sarah started to think about what she had actually _said. _It didn't make any sense. What on earth had she meant, 'her s_avior'_? And _what_ was she not telling her because humans are 'fearful creatures.' Sarah hated to feel left out of the loop. Especially when her own life was involved in the balance. _Well, _she decided, _there's nothing for it. I'm not going to make the same mistake I did last time…I'll just have to talk to Jareth. _Though with the mood he had been in last they met, she had a feeling that might not be as simple as it sounded.

Deep underground, a fluffy knight rode swiftly upon his fluffy steed. The knight pursued a gallant quest, and the cries of distress from his short-legged friend behind him did little to slow his eager pace. Suddenly they came upon a door, and Ambrosias was reined to a quick halt. The knight dismounted. A few minutes later, Hoggle came panting down the corridor. Reaching the door, he paused a moment to catch his breath.

"I's appreciate your help, Didymus. But next times I think I'll just wait at the finish line."

"Alack, Sir Hoggle! That would be ignoble. Think of the Lady Sarah who needs our help!"

"Huh," Hoggle huffed, "Sarah's the only reason I'm a' doin this at all. And I ain't never said I was noble."

"Indeed sir, the loyalty you have proven to the Lady is most admirable. And now to the task at hand. Onwards!" raising a paw high, Didymus rushed the door shoulder first. Fox and solid wood collided with a _thud_, with no visible result. Didymus was not deterred.

"Aha, a worthy adversary! Have at thee, Fiend," the little fox declared, and tried again.

Head inclined slightly to the right, Sarah listened. Her apartment down here was very small, and usually very quiet. _What was that banging, and where was it coming from?_ She followed the noise into the pantry, and finally found its source at a little door behind some shelves. It was a door she had no recollection of ever seeing before. There was definitely someone behind it, trying to get in. This caused a small swell of panic in her mind. _Should she let them in? Ask who's there? Stay quiet and pretend she's not there?_

In her slightly panicky moment, she opened the door wide. A white flash came barreling through, followed by a larger, shaggier white (and grey) animal, and a-

"Hoggle!" Sarah rushed to embrace the first friend she had made in the Labyrinth.

"Hullo," Hoggle muttered, shuffling his feet and pretending not to be overwhelmingly pleased by the sight of his good friend.

"Greetings, Fair Lady," Didymus doffed his cap and bowed elegantly.

"Sir Didymus!" Sarah hugged him too, "I'm so glad to see you both!" Indeed, she was practically glowing. Seeing her old friends, she felt the years slip away and it was as if she had never left them.

"But how did you know where to find me?" she thought to ask.

"Dear Lady, we have come to rescue you!" the knight declared.

"Rescue me!" she laughed, "from what?"

"From that no-good king, whot else? He's got you locked up here somehowz under his power, and now you can'tz escape," Hoggle stopped talking and frowned, because Sarah was still smiling.

"Hoggle, I'm not trapped here. The king is helping me."

"Bah! King ain't never helped nobody in his life. And he certainly wouldn't help _you. _You beat his big ole' maze without hardly trying. The king don't take kindly to that."

"You know, a couple of years ago I would have thought the same. But now I'm not so sure. Now that I've gotten to know him more, sometimes Jareth can be…nice."

Hoggle looked at Sarah as if she had just grown a second head, and it was a giraffe's head. He took a dramatic step away from her, and regarded her grimly.

"I'm too late. He's gotten to your head."

Sarah narrowed her eyes, "Let me rephrase that. He's nice sometimes, but most of the time he's a fat-headed git. There, satisfied? I haven't been 'taken under his spell' or something, if that's what you're worried about."

"Oh, but are you sure of that, my dear? How can you be _certain_?" A new voice, silky and gently sardonic, entered the conversation. And then he materialized out of the shadows, in that infuriatingly attractive way of his. Poor Hoggle nearly fainted with fright at the sudden appearance of his sovereign. Sarah drew in a sharp breath.

"It's really creepy when you do that," she told him. Jareth shrugged.

"It's my kingdom, sweet, and I shall do whatever I please."

"Have you come to start my lessons?" Sarah asked calmly, though her heart was beating fast. The king had after all just heard her call him a fat-headed git. And also "nice." She wasn't sure which to be more mortified about.

Hoggle had been studying Sarah's reaction to the king's entrance. He read her surprise and worry as fear, and stepped up to defend her.

"Sorry, Your Majesty, but you ain't doing nuffin to Miss Sarah. I's won't let you." For a moment Hoggle stood tall, but with one look from the king he shriveled back in horror at what he had done. But the king did not seem angry, merely amused.

"You won't let me, Hogwart? And whatever could you do to stop me?" he laughed, "But not to worry, all that is behind us now. Sarah and I are now only the best of friends, aren't we dear?" As he talked, he came to stand beside Sarah, and snaked an arm around her waist. There was something both threatening and bitterly humorous in his tone and manner. Sarah did not pull away, but watched him warily.

"You heard her yourself. Sometimes I can be _nice," _he pronounced the word as if it were some sort of contagious disease, "And seeing as I am so _nice, _you must know that I would never _dream_ of _doing_ anything to Sarah." His actions spoke otherwise, as his hand moved from her waist to rest lightly on the back of her neck, where he traced slow circles with his thumb.

Hoggle could not see this, but he was mad enough at the possessive way Jareth was holding Sarah near him. Sarah had to suppress a shiver at the pleasant sensation of Jareth's administrations to her. She would nearly die if Hoggle noticed how undeniably attracted she was to Jareth, even if she sometimes hated him. Jareth seemed to know this, and was doing his best to have some fun with the current situation. _He's in a dangerous mood today, _Sarah reflected, and resolved to be all the more careful.

Hoggle glared silently at the pair. Sarah smiled in what she hoped was a pacifying manner.

"Really Hoggle, it's true. Jareth is helping me hide from some Great Council, who apparently want to scan my brain because I can travel to the Underground on my own."

Hoggle's suspicion was replaced by concern, "the Great Council is after yous?" he shook his head and gave her an admonishing glance, "You sure know how to catch people's attention. You ought to be more careful."

Sarah tried her best to concentrate on Hoggle's words. This was rather difficult, as Jareth was now running a gloved hand up and down her back. She tried to catch his eye with a threatening glance, but he would not look at her directly. However, the self-satisfied smirk planted on his face told her that he was quite aware of how he was affecting her.

"Sarah?" Hoggle prompted, after several moments in which she did not respond.

Sarah gave a guilty start, "I'm sorry, Hoggle. What was that?"

"I said you oughts to be more careful."

"You're right, and in the future I will keep that in mind," here she almost gasped as Jareth's fingers found the sensitive spot behind her left ear. She pressed on quickly, "Meanwhile, I think it's time for you and Sir Didymus to go. Jareth and I have business we need to attend to right now. But I would love to see you again later."

Hoggle looked slightly offended, and still very suspicious. But Sir Didymus, cheery and oblivious as ever, spoke up.

"Right then. It was fine seeing you both, Lady Sarah, Your Majesty. Should you ever need our assistance, Lady, you know all you must do is call. Come, Sir Hoggle, let us be off." With a last salute, he mounted Ambrosias and left through the door he had come, Hoggle trailing grudgingly behind.

As soon as they were gone, Sarah leapt away from Jareth and turned on him, forgetting her pledge moments ago to be careful.

"What the bloody hell was _that_?" she exclaimed.

"Oh, dear me, whatever can you mean? Did you find my actions uncouth? I should think you would expect such behavior from a, what was it again? _Fat-headed git_? Although, it seemed to me that you were rather enjoying it… I suppose, though, that you wouldn't want your little loyal band to know that you have a thing for the Goblin King." His stare was challenging, and his tone harshly mocking.

Sarah opened her mouth to muster an angry reply, but suddenly found she could not do it. Her shoulders sagged, and she looked at Jareth with weary eyes.

"Jareth, I don't want to fight anymore," she said plainly.

"Then let's not fight," he murmured, his tone soft and completely changed as suddenly he was behind her, holding her close.

Sarah turned to face him. She looked only sad as she gently pushed him away.

"No, none of that either," she said.

Jareth's brow furrowed as he looked at her. He had come here today upon deciding that he had had enough of pining and politeness. He was going to win her over his old way: all glitter, menace, and seduction. It had almost worked before. Finding Higgle here had been initially surprising, but had also almost worked to his advantage. She was so eager to keep a straight face for the creature, that she let him get closer to her than she had in weeks. But now she was refusing to play the game; she wasn't performing her role correctly. He studied her. Finally he sighed in resignation. None of his plans ever worked out with Sarah. Why should today be any different?

"Fine," he said shortly, "what would you have me do?"

"Well, you said you were going to teach me about my powers."

"So I did. Alright, let's get on with it, then," he exited the storage room, and she followed him to the large, empty room where she often practiced her powers by herself.

They faced each other, and both felt a moment of hesitation. Sarah wondered if now was the right time to tell him about her dreams, and Jareth wondered if he should start by explaining what her powers _meant. _He knew she would probably panic, and might demand that he take her back to her own world immediately. He would not be able to refuse her. It was her right to remain human, or at least to not become any less human than she already was. But it would still be dangerous. And it would be best if after he brought her home, neither he nor anyone else from his kingdom contacted her again for quite a while, to make her whereabouts harder to track. That was why he was feeling more than a little desperate about his attempts to woo her. It was very possible that soon he might never see her again. He looked at her standing there before him, and decided to postpone the news a little longer. Sarah too, upon reflection, had decided that she would tell him later.

"In order to wield magic effectively, you must first understand it," Jareth began, remembering his own lessons in powers long ago. "Magic is not a natural force like water or lightning. It is alive, with a living consciousness of its own. And if you do not learn to control it, it will control you."

Sarah considered this, and she found the thought a little frightening. Nonetheless, she nodded and indicated that he should continue.

"So, the first thing one must learn to do with one's magic is to, ah, 'show it who's boss,' to use a colloquialism of your people. Gather up the magic inside you and hold it there. Soon it will want to be released, to become active in some way. You must refuse it, and continue to do so until the magic stops pulling at you and settles. This will not be easy. Do you think you can do that?"

Sarah nodded uncertainly, and Jareth indicated that she should begin. So she closed her eyes, and let that electric tingling gather up inside her. As Jareth predicted, soon it began to fizz and pull, wanting to be released. She held it. The feeling grew stronger, more persistent, and continued to grow still. Finally she could not take it anymore, and she let go. There was an explosion of light and noise a few feet above her head, like a mini firework. She opened her eyes, disappointed at her own lack of strength. Jareth, however, did not seem disappointed.

"That was very good for a first try," he said, without a trace of insincerity, "Now, again."

Several fierce struggles later, Sarah succeeded in taming her magic. She beamed proudly at her instructor, and he nodded with satisfaction. Then he began to explain the next exercise. Things went more quickly after that. Sarah learned to control and direct the white fire that shot from her hands. She could conjure a large ball of fire, or just a small flame on the tip of her finger. There were still many improvements to be made, but she was doing it, and it was terribly exciting for her. Jareth insisted that she take breaks, and asked her repeatedly if she wanted to stop, but she was eager to learn as much as she could all at once. When she asked again to learn something new, Jareth looked like he was about to refuse. Then something occurred to him, and he smiled.

"Alright, but this is the last one. Too much magical exertion can have very unpleasant effects."

"Fine. One more."

"You've learned the basics of offensive magic, so I think it's time we tackled the defensive. I'm not sure you're going to like it, though."

Sarah was suddenly suspicious, "Why not?"

"Well, since you are human, a Fae is very unlikely to attack you directly. That takes too much energy. They will likely use something called 'glamour' to get you to obey them. Have you heard of it?"

Sarah had heard of it, and she understood now why he was smiling that way.

"Oh no, you're not going to use that on me. That would be-" she faltered, and in her head she thought _Geez, as if he's not already hot enough. If he turns on some kind of magical seductiveness I might…_

"Of course, I would only be using it in order to teach you how to resist such powers. Strictly educational purposes."

"Huh, _right."_ But he looked so smug and sure she would refuse that something made her snap, "Alright, teach me."

Jareth was only surprised for moment, and then his grin widened.

"Good. So, the only way to really understand what it is like to go through is for me to demonstrate, and for you to try to resist. As with mastering your powers, it is a matter of will. You have to stay focused. Often an inner visualization helps, imagining something you find repulsive, such as a bullfrog or a worm. The Bog of Eternal Stench, perhaps."

Sarah laughed, a little nervously.

"Ready?" Jareth asked. She nodded grimly, an image of a bucket of leeches held firmly in her mind.

She blinked. Suddenly Jareth was-glowing, sort of. He was always beautiful, but now he was positively radiant. And thinking of him, she could not remember a single negative quality, not one reason why she should dislike him, which she vaguely remembered she was supposed to. But that was ridiculous. Jareth was the most wonderful, benevolent, powerful, sexy…She stood there looking at him, his aristocratic features, his wild golden hair and mismatched eyes, his…body.

Jareth looked on at first with amusement, at Sarah's transforming expressions. First she began to smile, then she was staring at him with an open, admiring expression that said she would give him absolutely anything in the world if he only asked. It was oddly gratifying for him, although he knew it was only the effects of the glamour. And then she had started to look…lustful, and that was when he began to loose his grasp on the situation. Sarah took a step towards him, her eyes gleaming.

"Jareth," she said his name huskily, as an invitation. And suddenly it all became too real for him. It was like he had stepped into one of his own dreams. She was gliding towards him, eyes filled with obvious desire, and she was real. It would be all too easy just to let her come to him, to take her in his arms and have her say his name again and again in that way, like she had in his dreams. He could have that, here, now.

She was very close to him now, and she showed no signs of even trying to fight the magic. It really was a shame, he reflected, that the rules of the Labyrinth did not allow for this kind of thing, or he would have won that first time quite easily. Though in his own vanity, he had never thought that he would need it.

Sarah reached out to touch his face, and Jareth froze, once again intensely aware of that burning look in her eyes, that he had yearned to see there for so long. They were standing by the table at which they often played chess. Sarah pulled out one of the chairs, and with one hand on his shoulder, gently sat Jareth down on it. He obeyed her, mesmerized, and all the while cruelly aware that as real as she was, at this moment Sarah was not really herself. But she was certainly something. Slowly, teasingly, she straddled the chair, and made herself comfortable on his lap. Then she began to unbutton her blouse. Jareth realized then with an abrupt clarity that if this went any further, he really would not be able to stop himself. And he might never let her go.

_Wonderful. Gorgeous. Want. Oh hell, how I want him. _These were Sarah's only thoughts. Then suddenly, they weren't. She was quite startled to look around and realize that she was on a chair, on Jareth's lap, with her blouse unbuttoned nearly halfway. This, part of her mind registered, was not entirely a bad situation. In fact, it could be very, very good. The other part of her mind, the more sensible and less hormone-driven part, screamed. Quickly she scrambled to disengage herself and stand up, and then began to button her shirt.

"You couldn't have stopped me a little sooner?" she asked irritably.

"Oh, but we were having such fun," Jareth quipped, although his breathing was still a little ragged, "You know, I think I quite like that other you. She's very obliging," he said, meaningfully. _But she's not quite you._ He thought. It was best that Sarah never knew how very close he had been to letting her stay like that. She would have been only a mindless shell of herself, and not really his Sarah. But it had been easy to forget that when she was looking at him like he was the whole world, the only thing she ever wanted. When she was looking at him the way he looked at her.

"Yeah, well, I hope you enjoyed it, because that's the last time it will ever be happening."

"So cruel, Sarah. Don't say that. It was such a pleasant experience."

Sarah did not reply, but took a few steps further away from him, and breathed deeply a few times until she had regained her composure.

"Okay, bring it on." she said. Jareth looked at her in disbelief.

"You want me to do it again?"

"Yes. I have to master this. I can't have you being able to do that to me whenever you want. I'm surprised you haven't tried to use it on me before."

Jareth scoffed, "Glamour is a cheap and sleazy trick. Some of us have standards." Though there certainly were times when he had been tempted, the bottom line was that he wanted to have the real Sarah. Still, he wasn't sure he could handle going through what had just happened again. She was so very beautiful, and to have her literally throwing herself at him was quite a test of endurance. His blood was still pulsing from the last time.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she said, "Now that I know what to expect, I'm sure I can do better." She was wearing that determined hero look, and as the prospect wasn't exactly unappealing to him anyhow, he relented.

"Alright. Prepare yourself."

It was happening again. She looked at Jareth and all she could think was how he was wonderful, absolutely, unconditionally wonderful. But this time, a small part of her mind whispered "Remember when he threw that snake at you? That was definitely not wonderful." She faltered. The rest of her screamed that it didn't matter, that it was already forgotten and that he was so damn sexy that it couldn't possibly be of any consequence. That other part of her recalled how he was often selfish, and terrorized his poor subjects into complying with his every demand. She dwelt on this, and remembered, as he had advised, the Bog of Eternal Stench, where he had sent Hoggle for being kissed by Sarah. That was another thing, he was ridiculously jealous. Still most of her was screaming that none of that mattered, because just _look _at the man. Sarah looked, and saw him for what he was. Complicated, far from perfect, but still pretty damn wonderful. She was still experiencing an insistent and not entirely rational urge to jump him right then and there, but she could fight it without too much difficulty. She smiled.

"Ha! See? Got it on the second try," she gloated, "Now turn that off."

He did. He was still very sexy, annoyingly so, but not in a magically enhanced way. For one thing, he was no longer glowing.

"Such a pity," Jareth said, wryly echoing his own words, "Now if ever the need arises, I will have to rely only on my charm and stunning good looks to get you to my bed."

"Poor man, however will you manage?" Sarah replied lightheartedly. She was feeling quite warmly towards Jareth for teaching her this defense. He could easily have used that power against her at any time, and yet he had not.

"Well now, let me see. First, perhaps, I would shower you with heartfelt compliments. For instance, I might tell you that you have the most lovely, captivating eyes that I have ever seen," he looked straight into her eyes when he said this, and Sarah felt her heart give a silly flutter.

"Oh, very classy," she said, still playfully, "and then?"

"And then? And then you would fall into my arms and surrender yourself to me, naturally," he said, teasingly.

Sarah laughed drily, "Right, because that's totally how it works."

Jareth surveyed her with mock-disapproval. "Sarah, it is unwise to contradict the king," he told her, and without warning he scooped her up off the ground and carried her, bridal style, out of the room. They were now in the kitchen. Sarah squealed.

"Jareth! Put me down this instant or so help me-"

"Admit defeat."

"No! Jareth, this is ridiculous!"

He ignored her, and continued to carry her around. There was only one room left for them to go to.

"OhNononNonnono! This is my room. You are so not allowed in my room!" She knew she sounded extremely childish, but bogdammit, he was acting childish. Then he set her down on the bed. The situation became decidedly more adult as he grinned at her in a way that expressed quite clearly what sort of thoughts were on his mind at this moment. Quickly, Sarah stood up. Jareth frowned.

"Really, Sarah. Must you go and ruin such a lovely picture?"

"Yes, I really must. And stop looking at me like that."

Jareth sighed as if this demand was very taxing on him. Obligingly, he turned his head to the side, and addressed his grievances to the wall.

"Such a fickle creature," he lamented, "one minute she's disrobing and the next I'm not allowed to look at her." He watched Sarah from the corner of his eye, expecting to elicit an indignant response. Instead he received a pillow to the face. Or would have, if he hadn't caught it first.

He turned to her, his delight with their game thinly concealed beneath a mask of patient endurance. "Now, that's not very nice," he admonished, "Attacking someone when their back is turned? For shame."

Sarah crossed her arms and stuck her chin out defiantly.

"Bite me," she replied, and realized her poor choice of words as Jareth smirked.

"Is that a request?"

"Definitely not."

"A challenge, then?"

Sarah looked at him sideways. "Maybe," she teased, and laughed. Then she paused, and suddenly remembered what she had wanted to talk to Jareth about before he came here today. Now was probably as good a time as any. But still, she didn't really want to do it.

"Look," she began, hesitantly, "there's something I need to ask you about."

Jareth was leaning casually against the wall. He did not respond immediately, but as she spoke his posture visibly tensed. An inner voice had begun to chant _Please, please don't let her ask me about that. Not right now, when we're actually getting along for once, please just give me a little longer. _But all he said was, "Yes, well?"

"It's sort of about the things that have been happening to me lately, with the dream-travel and the powers. About dreams-" here she stopped, because she could not help but notice Jareth's strange reaction to her words. It wasn't much; his emotions were very rarely obviously displayed, but she had seen him close his eyes for a few moments in an expression close to regret, or maybe fear. This was unusual enough to give her pause.

"Is there something I should know about my powers?" she asked, momentarily setting aside her original question.

He hesitated. She could almost see him weighing the pros and cons of giving her an honest answer.

"Jareth, don't lie to me" she warned him. He gave her an acid look that clearly said he did not appreciate her tone.

"Yes," he replied, finally, "There is something that you should know."

Sarah waited for him to explain, her apprehension growing. For a long moment, it looked as though he would say no more. Then he began.

"You know that you have acquired an inhuman power, though I gather you do not understand the significance of this. It has to do with the amount of time you spend in the Underground, steeped in the magic that lives in the very air here. It's a complicated phenomenon, but to put it in the simplest terms possible; the longer you stay here, the less human you become. You are absorbing magic, and it is changing you."

Sarah took a moment to absorb this information. And then another. It trickled slowly through the channels of her mind, and collected in a pool at the other end of her thoughts. Slowly, words bubbled to the surface of her mind, and then made the journey to her mouth.

"I've become _less human? _Less human and more _what_?" her voice held a quiet urgency; as though she was holding herself back from the edge of panic. Somehow this was worse than one of her usual explosions.

"You are becoming more Other. For all intents, more like a Fae. Though the Fae do not consider changelings to be of the same category as our own."

"How long have you known about this?"

"At first it honestly did not cross my mind. I considered it after a while, but did not think you had been here long enough for it to have a significant effect. It was only when you threw that lightning at me that I realized how quickly it had taken hold of you, and how far it had progressed."

"And if I go back home, will it stop getting worse?"

"They're still looking for you-" even Jareth could hear the desperate edge to his own voice. He sighed, "Yes. It will stop."

"Take me back." It was not a request.

"It won't matter if you're a little less human if they catch you and decide to execute you," he pointed out, rather hopelessly.

"Take me back, _right now_."

Resignedly, he held out a hand to her. She just looked at him.

"It's easier to transport you if I have a direct connection," he explained, irked that she needed the explanation at all.

Still reluctantly, she took his proffered hand. He pulled her close, and suddenly she heard the sharp whistling of wind all around them. It stung her cheeks and whipped at her clothes and hair. She closed her eyes and huddled closer to the body in front of her. Then it was over.

Sarah took a step back. "You should go now," was all she said, and left him standing in the living room.

She ran upstairs to see if anyone had left a message on her machine. There were forty-two. Most of them were from an increasingly panicked sounding Cathy, at first wondering why she had missed their movie date, then finally wondering if she was alive.

Sarah picked up the phone and dialed her number. It was only as she heard Cathy's voice on the other line that Sarah realized she did not know how to explain her absence, or even how long that absence had been.

"Hullo?" Cathy asked, for the second time.

"Yes, hi. This is-this is Sarah."

"Sarah? Sarah, my God, I thought you'd been murdered!"

Sarah laughed weakly, "No, nothing like that. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you I'd be gone. I didn't think."

"I should say not! I may still forgive you, though. Just tell me, where the _hell _have you been these last two months?"

_Two months? _Sarah's mind reeled. It had been three days up here only yesterday. Yesterday for her, anyway. Jareth had said it could be random, but this was something else. How to possibly explain away a two month long absence?

"Sarah?"

"I-Um, I…Look, the important thing is that I'm home, and I'm fine. No need to call the police, or my parents, or anything like that. I'll tell you everything later, I promise. I really have to go now, though, ok? See you later." She hung up without waiting for a reply. Then she went to go lie down. It was wonderful to be in her own bed, in the quiet of her own apartment. She soon fell asleep.

Sarah awoke refreshed, though still mildly worried about what she was going to tell Cathy. It would have to be something sufficiently important that she would forgive her for not calling for so long. Calling Cathy back could wait, though. She was still experiencing the joy of being back in her own apartment and Aboveground for the first time in three weeks. No magic here, just the wonders of electricity and indoor plumbing. _Oh, she could take a shower!_ Just at this moment, nothing sounded better. Humming to herself, Sarah picked out a towel and headed to the bathroom.

In the middle of shampooing her hair, she heard the doorbell ring. She ignored it, thinking it was probably a door-to-door salesman. Soon it stopped. Sarah finished her shower and dressed, and then stepped out into the hall, where she paused. She thought she heard the murmur of voices from the room below. Cautiously, she made her way downstairs, and peered into the living room. Two heads turned towards her as she entered, and two people smiled.

"Sarah!" Cathy exclaimed, and ran to envelop her friend in a tight hug.

"Hello, love," a voice said from the couch. Jareth smiled at her, in that smug, infuriating way that told her he had done something she probably wasn't going to like. Cathy was looking rather smug as well.

"I _knew _it was something juicy!" she crowed, when she had pulled away from their embrace. "You wouldn't have disappeared without a good reason. You're too _responsible _for that." She said "responsible" like it was a bad thing. Sarah had a feeling that Jareth had found a dangerous ally in this girl. She had never realized before how similar their personalities were.

"Still, why didn't you _tell _me? You could have called from Bermuda," she continued. Sarah just stared at her, her expression blank. _Bermuda?_

"I'm afraid I must take all the blame," Jareth interjected smoothly, "I whisked her away without any notice in advance, and when we got there I insisted that we cut off all forms of technological communication. I wanted it to be just about us."

Cathy sighed, "That's so romantic. I'm surprised you got Sarah to agree to something like that, she can be a real stick in the mud."

"I admit, some persuasion was required," he replied silkily. Cathy smirked, and turned to Sarah.

"Okay, so I can't blame you for running away to a tropical vacation with your dream guy… You're forgiven."

"Um, thanks," Sarah said weakly.

"And, may I say, congratulations! Though I still can't believe I've never even heard about this guy until we ran into him in your apartment last time."

"Yeah, well, it's all happened very fast," Sarah replied, with a sharp glance over Cathy's shoulder at Jareth. Cathy did not pick up on the hint of irony in her tone.

"Still, moving in together is a big step. You guys must be really crazy about each other."

A small, strangled noise of disbelief escaped Sarah's throat. Cathy gave her a funny glance.

"You alright?"

"Oh, fine," Sarah replied, but with very little conviction.

At this point, Jareth rose from the couch and glided over to the pair.

"You'll have to forgive Sarah. She's just a little fatigued from all the travel." He came to stand behind Sarah, hands placed on her shoulders, and lightly kissed the top of her head.

Cathy smiled at them in an 'Aw, well isn't that sweet?' kind of way. Jareth paid her little attention. "Your hair smells delightful, precious," he told Sarah, while running his fingers through her hair. Then he moved her hair aside so he could kiss the exposed skin of her neck.

"Whoa there, lover boy," Cathy laughed, "I can see I'm not wanted here anymore, but at least wait till I'm out of the room to get things steamy. Sarah, I'll see you later, but you had better call me soon with all the details of that trip. Don't make me hunt you down again," she threatened, but in good humor. She exited the room with one last meaningful glance in Sarah's direction, while pantomiming a telephone with one hand. "Call me," she mouthed silently, then finally shut the door.

Cathy had been gone a few minutes before Sarah remembered to pull away from Jareth's grip. He let out a small growl of displeasure when she did.

"Jareth," Sarah spoke firmly, "I'll admit that vacation thing was a good excuse for my extended absence, but I think I made it pretty clear that I don't want you here."

"Well that's a shame, because I've decided that I'm not leaving."

"Oh, I think you'll find that you are."

"I thought that you would be safest if I brought you here and went back only once, leaving as little magic to trace as possible. But now I realize that the safest course would be for me to stay with you. In the event that any of my kindred should return, I will be here to protect you."

"That's almost sweet. I'm sure you have no ulterior motives whatsoever," her sarcasm was unmistakable. Jareth only smiled.

"My motives are as stated. If there should happen to be any little perks that come with the job, so much the better."

Sarah eyed him critically. She could not deny that when she had heard the voices downstairs, a part of her had been scared stiff that it was that awful Fae man come to reclaim her. Still-

"How much longer can this go on for? You can't guard me forever. And don't you have a kingdom to rule?"

"If it is a time limit you require, let us say I will be gone within the month. One month, for my own peace of mind. That's all I ask. As for your other concern, goblins respond poorly to too much kingly jurisdiction. They are best left alone for the majority of the time anyway."

Sarah considered this a moment longer.

"Fine," she said, "but no more taking advantage of that story and getting personal while Cathy's around. And you're sleeping on the couch…and just because you're living here that does _not _mean we're living together. So you can forget about any 'perks' you had in mind from this situation."

"As you wish," he said, but Sarah thought that he still seemed a little too pleased with himself.

And it was hardly any wonder why. _Jareth living in her house?_ This was going to be interesting.


	8. Chapter 8

Sarah was having a bit of an odd moment. It was just so bizarre, having the Goblin King in her home and treating him like any other guest. For instance, for the first time she found herself wondering what kind of pajamas he might where. The thought made her suppress a giggle.

She handed him the blanket and pillow, then stood awkwardly by the couch.

"So, um, just call if you need anything. I'll be upstairs. The bathroom's down the hall, and if you get hungry, just help yourself to whatever's in the fridge."

Jareth inclined his head regally in acknowledgement. There was another awkward silence. At least, it was awkward for Sarah. Jareth seemed unconcerned by the thought that he might be less than welcome here. In fact, he practically oozed self-satisfied confidence, and Sarah was beginning to wonder what exactly she had agreed to in letting him stay with her.

"Okay, well…Goodnight," Sarah muttered, and turned to go.

"Goodnight," he replied, "And Sarah, should _you_ need anything, you know where to find me." He managed to make even this simple statement sound suggestive. It was in the way he breathed the word "need" in that silky voice of his. Sarah paused for a moment and turned a little red, then just kept walking. She heard his laughter behind her.

The next morning, Sarah awoke in her usual nest of blankets, and immediately felt more alert than usual. She sat up. The earthy aroma of good, black coffee pervaded her room. Cautiously, she climbed out of bed and made her way downstairs, where she peered into the kitchen. Jareth was there, and he was making a pot of coffee.

"Good morning," he greeted her, "Sleep well?"

"Ung…" said Sarah. Her nightwear question was answered: Jareth wore a pair of dark blue silk pajama pants. But the top to the set was missing, and she could not help but find this fact very distracting. She was not quick enough to hide her reaction, and Jareth noticed. A slow smile spread across his face, but otherwise he made no comment. He poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat down at the table. Sarah entered the kitchen, poured her own coffee, and toasted and buttered herself a bagel, all while carefully avoiding looking in Jareth's direction.

Jareth was mildly considering never donning a shirt again, if this was the effect it produced. It was so delightful seeing Sarah get all flustered and nervous as she tried to avoid so much as glancing in his direction. He rose silently from the table and came to stand behind her. She was so intent on not looking back that she did not notice that he had moved.

"Have your eyes become fixed to that counter, love?" He asked, with amusement and mock concern. Sarah jumped visibly at the sound of his voice. However she very deliberately did not turn around.

"No, it's just I can't stand to look at that terrible bed-head you've got," she retorted. Jareth's hair looked exactly as it normally does. But he chose to ignore this jibe in favor of a more rewarding line of thought.

"Tsk, manners. Can't we agree to at least be sociable with one another?" he asked, the voice of reason.

"Sociable I can deal with, Jareth, but you really have to work on the concept of personal space. Right now, for example, I would appreciate it if you would stop breathing down my neck." As she spoke she scraped the butter knife back and forth across the same bagel slice, seemingly putting all her concentration into this small task.

"I do apologize," Jareth said, though his obsequious manner was clearly less than sincere, "I was only concerned by your sudden agitation at my presence."

"Agitation at your presence?" Sarah whirled around to face him "That's abs-absolutely ridiculous," she faltered, and lapsed into silence. For a moment, she didn't care that she was staring. Instead of moving away, Jareth took another step closer. She did not protest. He leaned towards her-and reached over her shoulder to steal half her bagel. Then he moved away.

The expression on her face was almost worth not pressing his advantage in that moment: an instant of pure shock, quickly followed by indignation.

"Clearly," he responded wryly, with a wicked smile.

Sarah looked angry. Then suddenly she laughed.

"Fine, one point for the Goblin King," she conceded, and sat down to eat the remaining half of her bagel.

It was still summer, (August now), so Sarah had nothing much to do but spend the day lounging around the house. She _had _a job at the beginning of the summer, but she was fairly certain that after not showing up to work for two months, she was fired.

In the late afternoon, Sarah was watching some TV and effectively ignoring Jareth. He still hadn't changed into proper clothes, and she refused to ask him to because she knew it would just bring them back to the subject of why his current state made her uncomfortable. It seemed once again she had underestimated just how immature he could be. And so when the phone rang, she welcomed the distraction. She practically ran to retrieve it.

"Hullo?"

"Sarah!" Of course, it was Cathy.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Okay, now you can't say no because you still owe me for nearly giving me a heart attack by disappearing like that."

"Can't say no to what?"

"Me and Steve are going out tonight and I want you guys to come with us, like a double date. Won't that be fun?"

"Um…"

"Great, so it's settled. We'll pick you up around seven. You're going to love the restaurant Steve found, it's precious. Dress nice." And without waiting for a proper response from Sarah, she hung up. Sarah continued to hold the phone to her ear, listening to the dial tone. Then she cursed, and hung up as well.

She could call her back, and explain why they couldn't go. That was what she ought to do. But she already felt bad about lying to Cathy in the first place, and she did kind of feel like she owed her something… Bogdammit, they would just have to go.

Sarah walked into the living room, and found Jareth relaxing in an easy chair, reading Sarah's copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. He looked up as she entered.

"These hobbits, they sound like some variation of dwarf. Do you suppose they would be interested in joining the League of Smaller Magical Creatures? They're always looking for new species to recruit."

"Jareth, it's just a story," Sarah laughed.

"Supposedly so am I," he pointed out.

"Are you saying that all stories are actually true?"

"Of course not. Are all history books accurate?"

"Well, no. Over time some facts get confused, and people write things from their own perspectives, or even make things up so…Oh, I see." Then she waved her hand in the air as if brushing away this thought, "Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

She gave him a stern look, "You're going to have to put on some normal human clothes, because we're going out tonight with Cathy and her new boyfriend."

"Out. Would this be on what you humans call a 'date'?"

"What, you've never been on a date before?"

"My people do not 'date', we court."

"The difference being?"

"Courting is always with the intention of finding a suitable match for marriage. Many Fae find it baffling how humans seem to treat matters of love so lightly, as if it were only for amusement."

Sarah was about to protest, but then she thought of Cathy, who was a perfect example of someone who dated more for the entertainment aspect of it than with the intention of finding someone she could truly love.

"Okay, whatever. They're coming at seven. Do you think you could try to blend in?"

"I'll try," he said, with a bit of an edge to his voice.

"Good," Sarah replied. Then she went back upstairs. She really ought to call her parents, because as little attention as they normally paid her, they would probably still be concerned by not hearing from her for so long.

When Sarah got off the phone with her stepmom, she was feeling a little annoyed. Her family had barely noticed her lack of communication, and had in fact spent most of their summer on vacation in California without her. They had just assumed she wouldn't want to go. She glanced at the clock, and found with a shock that it was already five thirty. And she hadn't even thought about what she was going to wear.

It was a fake date, she told herself, so it really didn't matter how she looked. Still she tried on about five different outfits before settling on a slim black cocktail dress she had bought for a party once. She accessorized with a pearl necklace and earrings, and some strappy silver stilettos. Next she put her hair up, and then let it out again, deciding just to leave it. Finally she applied a little make up, and stepped back to study her reflection in the mirror. She hoped she didn't look like she was trying too hard, but Cathy had said they were going somewhere nice.

She went downstairs to meet Jareth, and was somewhat surprised to find that he had actually dressed well for the occasion. He was wearing a suit jacket with dark blue jeans and dress shoes. There were also some touches that were clearly Jareth; the shirt underneath the jacket had long lace cuffs, and more noticeably, there was his distinctive hair. He looked like some kind of a rockstar.

"Is this acceptable?" He asked, gesturing to his outfit.

"Well, it's not exactly conventional, but it'll do. If anyone asks, tell them you're in a band."

He nodded, "A cover story, that's probably wise. And may I add that you look absolutely lovely this evening?"

Sarah, surprisingly, found herself smiling shyly at this remark.

"Thank you." There was a knock at the door, "Oh, that's probably them."

She looked at Jareth, who was looking down at his clothes. He fiddled with one of the sleeves of his jacket, clearly uncomfortable with his whole outfit.

"Stop fidgeting, you look fine," she laughed, and went to go answer the door.

"Hey there," Cathy greeted them, "You ready?"

"Yeah, just let me grab my purse," Sarah replied. She did, and they all exited into the hallway. Sarah locked her door behind them. Cathy spoke.

"So, I believe some introductions are in order. Sarah, this is Steve. Steve, Sarah."

"Nice to meet you," Steve said, and they shook hands.

"And this is-Jareth, right?" Cathy continued.

"Correct," Jareth nodded, and he too shook hands with Steve.

"Nice hair dude, you in a band or something?" Steve asked.

"Indeed I am."

"He's the lead singer," Sarah added, for good measure. In fact, she had no trouble at all picturing him in such a role.

Cathy smiled. "Ha, that explains the crazy fashion sense then. Steve, you should have seen what he was wearing the first time I saw him," she turned back to Sarah and Jareth, "No offense."

Jareth did not reply, but smiled tightly. His smile could be quite terrifying.

"Um, we'd better go catch our cab," Sarah quickly suggested. They all agreed, and made their way downstairs and out into the street, where the cab waited.

When they arrived at the restaurant, it proved to be a small, upscale Italian place hidden amongst some other stores. There were candles and small arrangements of flowers at each table, and white linen napkins in ornate silver napkin rings. It was, as Cathy had promised, quite charming.

As soon as they were all at the table, Cathy leaned slightly forward in her seat, and Sarah could almost see the wave of questions just waiting to pour out of her. Anxious to deflect this, she came up with a question of her own.

"So Cathy, tell me about you and Steve. How long have you guys been together? Where did you first meet?"

"Oh, it's been about three weeks now. It's actually kind of a funny story. See, one day I was walking across town and out of nowhere it started to rain. Of course, I didn't have an umbrella, and I was wearing my new pumps too. So then this guy, complete stranger, comes up to me and-" Cathy had clearly begun on one of her long, rambling stories that could go on for ages. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief and began to tune her out. Across the table from her, Steve was paying close attention to Cathy, nodding and laughing at the right bits in the story. To her right, Jareth was studying the menu. She nudged him lightly and looked pointedly at Cathy. She felt that they should both at least be feigning polite interest. Jareth quirked his eyebrows in an expression that said he knew she hadn't been listening any more than he had. Nonetheless, he turned towards Cathy and gave her at least the appearance of his attention. Sarah did the same. But she was still caught of guard when Cathy reached the end of her story, and asked if they would like to order.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I was thinking I'd get some ravioli," Sarah answered, making a quick recovery.

"Mm, sounds good. I'm probably getting some fettuccine alfredo."

They called over the waiter and all placed their orders. Immediately after the waiter had left, Cathy seemed to remember her mission.

"Sarah, you've gotten me off track," she accused, "You promised to tell me all about this crazy romance of yours, and here you've got me going on about me and Steve. Well, now it's your turn. Spill." She leaned back in her chair to await a response, an eager gleam in her eyes. Sarah hesitated.

"When did you two meet?" Cathy prompted.

"Well, we met once a few years ago but didn't hit it off very well," Sarah began, in what she considered probably the understatement of the year, "But somehow when we met again recently, things were different. We started spending a lot of time together, and, I don't know. I realized how much I hadn't known about him before, that I had really misjudged him the first time around."

"Ooh, I bet you were awful to him, too," Cathy laughed, "Was she? Sarah can be a real ice queen when a guy is pissing her off."

"She hated me," Jareth confirmed, his voice devoid of any clear emotion.

"I didn't hate you," Sarah corrected, without thinking. Jareth turned to meet her gaze, his eyes holding a question.

"I was angry, definitely, at you and myself and the world, but I never hated you," she finished quietly. They shared a silent moment, and it was clear that this admission was important to Jareth.

The rest of the dinner passed pleasantly, without much of interest occurring. Sarah faced a few more questions about their relationship, and she answered them all with half-truths and vague statements that nonetheless seemed to satisfy Cathy. In fact, when they were on their way out Cathy pulled her aside to moon over Sarah's newfound love.

"You guys have so much chemistry, it's insane. I can like, practically see the sparks flying when you look at each other… aww, I'm just so happy for you!" she squealed a little, and hugged her friend tightly. Sarah returned the hug, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Then they rejoined their dates, and the couples said their goodbyes.

Sarah and Jareth walked down the street together, laughing and chatting amicably after their double date with Cathy and Steve. They paused to hail a cab, and Sarah was still laughing to herself.

"When Cathy asked you if you had any pets, and you said, with a straight face, that you had several chickens…ha! Did you see her face?"

"I didn't say I enjoyed owning poultry. They are rather a nuisance actually, but the goblins are very attached to them."

"I don't know, I think they give the place a sort of atmosphere," Sarah mused. Jareth scoffed.

"Oh yes, they really lend the Labyrinth that coveted barnyard feel."

It all happened very suddenly. A taxi passed, but didn't stop for them. Sarah yelled something rude after it, but her voice sounded oddly muffled. Then all the noise of the street went dead at once, and she noticed another strange thing about the street; namely, that it was disappearing quickly around them. It was like the world was being erased. Soon, there was only she and Jareth standing in a blank white space. She turned to him with panic in her eyes, and saw that he was standing very still and tense, looking around them expectantly.

"Really, Jareth, this is almost an insult," a cold voice rung out of the empty air, and was followed by the appearance of the red haired warrior woman from the Great Council, who continued to speak.

"Parading around Aboveground with a mortal that the Council has expressly claimed for examination? I might mistake such an action for bravery if it weren't so damned foolish."

"Jasminda."

The Fae woman nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

"It's been a while, hasn't it? My, how just a few years have changed you. I always thought you were the fairly sensible sort, but it seems I was mistaken," she said disdainfully.

Jareth said nothing in response, but his eyes followed her every slight movement, anticipating some form of attack. Meanwhile, all Sarah could do was try not to attract attention to herself. She stood like a statue, barely even breathing. It was no good. When it was clear that Jareth had nothing more to say to her, Jasminda turned her sharp eyes on the girl beside him. Her mouth curled into a sneer.

"And this speck of humanity, this is the reason the mighty have fallen…Well, no matter. You could not hide her forever, and now the trial that is long overdue shall take place," she reached out and seized Sarah's arm-and screamed. Tendrils of white fire shot up Jasminda's arm where she had touched Sarah, and she was thrown back into the nothingness by some invisible force. As she fell back her image broke into thousands of particles and dissolved, leaving no trace that it had ever been.

"Is she dead?" Sarah asked tentatively, overwhelmed by everything that had just occurred.

"No. She has merely been cast out of this place that she brought us to, and which we must leave immediately." So saying, he took both her hands in his, and Sarah could feel the power coursing through them both, connected like an electrical circuit. Slowly, the world filled itself in and they were standing in Sarah's apartment.

"Are we safe here?" she asked.

"For now," he replied grimly.

At this news, the adrenaline and fear that had been keeping Sarah standing strong all left her in a rush. Her shoulders sagged and she seemed to crumple in on herself. Jareth was beside her in seconds, holding her close in his arms. She did not even protest, just clung to him gratefully.

**More will be explained about the incident with Jasminda next chapter. So don't worry if you're confused. Of course, feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Much love to all of you for sticking it out through my infrequent updates. **

**And because I haven't stated it before, though I'm sure you all know, I obviously do not own the Labyrinth or any of the recognizable characters in this story. Enjoy!**

Sarah sat on the couch, arms crossed for security, and clearly deep in thought. Jareth watched her anxiously from the armchair. Finally she stood abruptly, and Jareth followed suit. He waited for her to speak first.

"There are a lot of things I need you to explain for me," she began.

"Yes," he agreed simply.

"Like, to start with, where did that woman take us, and what happened to her when she touched me?"

"She took us to a sort of in-between dimension, a halfway point between Aboveground and below. Most Fae nowadays will avoid surfacing when at all possible, and our powers are stronger closer to our own realm.

As for what happened, all I can tell is that I didn't do a thing except get us back here, so it must have been your powers acting on defensive instincts…What troubles me is the _amount_ of power you released. It's not easy to do what you did to Jasminda. You didn't have that much power when we were training, and your power should be decreasing, not increasing, now that we have left the Underground. It doesn't make sense."

"So you don't know what's happening to me?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's not like it's your fault."

"Nonetheless-"

"Look, there's something I've been meaning to tell you, and it's probably related to all this," Sarah began. _It was about time she got this all out. Maybe he could explain what it meant. _She paused. She was beginning to feel an odd tightening in her chest. But she ignored it, and continued.

"See, I've been having these dreams," her throat tightened and she choked out the next few words, "these dreams where-" a sharp pain was swelling in her chest and her throat was closing up so that she could barely breath. She clutched a hand to her heart, and stopped trying to talk. As soon as she stopped thinking about telling her story, the symptoms receded.

"Are you alright?" Jareth asked with concern.

She nodded, while breathing deeply.

"I just-I think I just need to lie down," she told him.

"Of course. You're unused to exercising magic. It's probably taken a toll on you."

Sarah excused herself and made her way upstairs to her room. _He's probably right_, she told herself, _I'm feeling weird because of the magic. I should take a nap or something. _So she laid down on her bed, but soon found that sleep would not come. She turned over and just stared at the wall.

It was a puzzle, these inexplicable powers of hers and her apparent inability to tell Jareth about them. Something weird was going on and she should definitely be worried about it. And yet at this moment, that wasn't what sprung first to her mind. As she lay there, Sarah found herself recalling the start of all this madness, when she had that first dream about a ball and a strange reunion. She remembered how it had felt seeing him again, years after their last encounter, and finding that he was undeniably real. Something small and bright had flared up inside her, and though she had been ignoring it all this time, it was always there and growing. It was a struggle for her to acknowledge that bright thing, to take it in her hands, examine it closely, and try to find out what it really meant. But now it had grown too big to ignore, and as she sunk deeper into her own thoughts, she knew that was exactly what she must do.

Jareth was also staring at a wall, lost in thought, when he heard a noise behind him. It sounded like a small goblin tentatively clearing its throat. He turned to address the noise, and found exactly what he expected. The little creature looked rather nervous and uncomfortable, which did not bode well for the type of news he brought to his king.

"Report," the king instructed, hands folded neatly behind his back in a military fashion.

First the goblin attempted a stumbling bow. Then it spoke, carefully pronouncing its words.

"King, Tem-pore-airy gov-urn-mint in bad trouble. People no want to listen to not-scary-no-bogging King Friend. Goblins are ignoring King Friend, and do whatever they want…Things not good without King." In his terror of the king's anticipated rage, this was as articulate a speech as the poor creature could manage.

Jareth frowned, "Exactly how 'not good'?"

The goblin looked up at its leader with wide, frightened eyes, begging him not to make him continue. Jareth merely stared sternly, waiting for an answer. So the goblin continued, in a small voice.

"Many things broken. Ale storage raided…parts of castle on fire. Bad things. Lots of fighting…"

The king waved a hand to cut off the sorry list, "Yes, yes. Understood. Is there any other news?"

The goblin shook its knobby head 'no'.

"Then you are dismissed."

The creature bowed deeply in relief, and quickly disappeared with a _pop_.

Jareth closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, a habitual sign of stress for him. He sighed deeply. It seemed he could no longer delay the return to his own kingdom. And with what had just happened, there was no way he was leaving Sarah behind. But how to convince her to come back with him?

Sarah's door stood half-open, but he knocked softly anyway before entering. She was lying down, though not asleep, staring off into space instead.

"Sarah?"

Her eyes turned to focus on him, and she seemed to be stepping out of a deep forest of thought. He had her full attention now, but he wasn't sure how to begin. He decided to take the most direct route.

"I need to return to the Goblin Kingdom. Apparently it is falling apart in my absence."

Sarah did not respond at first. She sat up, hugged her knees to her chest, and just studied him with a thoughtful expression.

"Okay," she said finally.

Jareth raised his eyebrows at this, "I need you to come with me," he clarified, in case she hadn't understood his intentions.

"Yes, I know," she said, still staring at him with that odd expression.

"…And you're alright with that?"

"I think so."

"Oh."

He hadn't expected it would be that simple. But if for once she was willing to make things a little easier for him, that was all the better. She took his offered hand without complaint, and moments later they were standing inside the castle beyond the goblin city.

It was chaos.

Goblins ran amuck in all directions, fighting and biting and yelling in equal parts anger and delight. A heap of furniture was burning at the center of the room, and the acrid stench of smoke mixed foully with the thick odor of goblin ale, several barrels of which were broken open and leaking onto the floor.

In the midst of all this stood a stout, portly sort of man, who was desperately waving around a silver scepter and shouting commands. As soon as he laid eyes on Jareth, he ran over to him, and the poor man seemed on the verge of weeping with relief.

"Thank the gods you're here, old boy," the man said, in a not unfriendly manner despite his distress, "I don't know how you put up with them, but I'm out. I think I shall go immediately and bathe, but I don't know if I will ever feel quite clean again with all the grime these fellows stir up." So saying, the little man disappeared.

Jareth's face seemed to drain of all color as he surveyed the mess his subjects had created. From the air he produced a pair of his black leather gloves, and slipped them on. In their frenzy, the goblins had not noticed him yet, and the madness raged on around him. With frightening calm, he reached out a hand, grabbed one of the creatures by the scruff of its neck and lifted it up. It turned on him with a raised fist, and then froze in terror. Its eyes widened to the size of saucers. Then it puffed up its chest with breadth.

"KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!" the goblin squawked, a warning to the rest of its pack.

The commotion in the hall stopped dead. Heads swiveled towards the source of the noise, and soon clubs and fists were dropping all around. An ominous silence fell upon the crowd, and they waited.

The king pursed his lips and raised one angular eyebrow.

"Bog," he said simply, and half of the goblins in the crowded room disappeared.

"The rest of you go and spread the news. The king has returned, and there _will_ be consequences for what has come to pass here. I need not tell you that they will be bad. But they will be much, much worse if all of this does not stop _right now. _So go, tell your fellows and save yourselves."

They did not need to be told twice. The goblins scattered so fast that it seemed like some of them had simply disappeared. Maybe they had. Sarah wasn't sure if they could do that or not.

But it hardly mattered. Nothing seemed to matter now except one very important thing that she had only just realized. Now that she knew it, it seemed strange that it had taken her so long to realize it, and she knew of course that she must tell Jareth right away, because this revelation involved him quite critically.

Jareth had extinguished the burning pile of furniture and was now examining it, taking account of what had been damaged.

"Jareth," Sarah called to him, but he took no notice. She walked over to where he stood, and tried again.

"Jareth, I have something to tell you."

The pile of furniture disappeared as Jareth poofed it away, and beneath it was revealed a pair of small goblins still fighting. One was tugging on the other's bat-like ear, but when it saw the king it stopped and squeaked in terror. The king gave them both a disapproving glare. They shrunk away from him and tried to make themselves as small as possible.

"Jareth _please, _this is important."

Finally he turned towards her, still looking very distracted.

"What is it, Sarah?"

"…I think I love you."

For a moment he just looked at her, his eyes wide and his posture very still.

"What?" he breathed.

Sarah smiled a slow, radiant smile.

"I love you," she told him again.

He continued to stare at her in disbelief. Suddenly his expression turned dark.

"If this is some kind of cruel joke-"

"No! Not at all. I mean, I know that I've never shown it, but I've only just realized it myself…though I think really it's been true for quite some time now, and-please don't make me go on. _Say_ _something_."

Another interval of silence passed, in which the two goblins took their opportunity and quietly snuck away.

When it seemed the king would have no response to her confession at all, he suddenly stepped towards her, reached out a hand and brushed it down her cheek in a soft caress.

"Sarah," he whispered her name like a prayer. She leaned into his caress, and, as if encouraged by this, he took her fully into his arms and kissed her. The kiss was sweet, fulfilling, and more passionate even than their last. For a few long moments they were so lost in each other that the whole world could have fallen apart around them and they wouldn't have noticed. When they parted, both were breathing a little raggedly.

"Say it again," he asked, almost begged.

"I've already said it twice," she laughed.

"And yet I'm still not sure this isn't a dream." It might have sounded trite if his tone were not so heartbreakingly sincere. Still, Sarah could not help but smile wryly at how the tables had turned.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe this is a dream and you're imagining me saying what you want to hear."

"Sarah, _my _Sarah. Must you taunt me still?" He drew her in closer to him, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, "Please, humor me this once."

Sarah felt a warm kind of joy humming through her as he held her close. For once she was not trying to suppress or deny her feelings, she could just be happy being near him. She cupped his face in her hands, and looked straight into his eyes.

"I love you," she told him fervently, without a trace of hesitation or doubt.

Jareth closed his eyes and savored the sound of the words. Then he opened his eyes again and looked at her sincerely.

"And I love you. Gods help me, I was never able to stop loving you, even when I thought the pain of it would destroy me."

Sarah thought her own heart would break just hearing him.

"Well, I'm here now," she said consolingly, "And I'm not planning on leaving any time soon." She shot him a foolish, happy grin.

He looked at her. And smiled.

"Yes, you're here now." He was still holding her close. He brushed a hand through her hair, and ran it down her back in a way that made her shiver. Jareth, of course, took note of this, and that certain gleam lit his eyes in response.

"And now that you're here, precious thing, whatever shall I do with you?"

His hands had slipped down to her waist, where the thin material of her dress was doing little to detract from the warm sensation of his touch. She practically melted under his hot, hungry stare. But there was also something frighteningly possessive in that stare, and she had to make one thing clear before she fell any deeper into this.

"I hope you know that I still refuse to fear you, and I'm only going to do what you say when and if it suits me," she said, a little breathlessly thanks to the current situation. Jareth only smirked.

"Pity," he stated dryly, and without much sign of concern. "Tell me, though. If not obedience, would you occasionally be open to _persuasion_?" The words fell hot on her neck as he moved in to place a kiss there, and then on her bare shoulder.

"_Jareth." _she tried to scold, but it came out as more of a moan.

"_Sarah_," he answered in a silky, heated tone that broke down the last of her crumbling wall of fears. Even if her worst fears were realized, she decided, it might be worth it just for this moment of happiness. She smiled.

She was feeling a little light-headed. It was probably all the excitement, or maybe the magic she had worked some hours ago, or the way Jareth kissed her and lit her heart and body on fire.

But no, this was different. She was starting to feel rather dizzy. She took a step away from Jareth, because suddenly she needed more air.

"Something's wrong," she said, and she knew she must look ill, because she could see the sudden awareness and concern in his eyes as he looked at her.

It was the magic, she realized. The magic was building up inside her without her command, fizzing and stirring in an alarming way. And she couldn't stop it.

An image flashed across her mind: a woman, beautiful beyond description, standing in a little garden. Her arms were spread out wide and her face was turned up towards the sky, eyes closed. She seemed to be waiting for something to happen.

"Sarah? _Sarah!_" Jareth's voice called her back to the present. It sounded urgent and alarmed.

"Sarah, what is the matter? Tell me, what do you see?"

The pain was returning. The pain was in her chest, and her stomach, and her head.

"It hurts," she told him. She felt him take hold of her shoulders and force her to look at him. For a moment the pain receded as she looked into his clear, blue eyes.

"Sarah, tell me what's wrong."

She wanted to answer him, but she couldn't. Everything was spinning, lights dancing around her. And then all the lights were doused at once, and the world was gone.

Jareth caught her when she passed out and began to fall. He brought her to his room, the one room in the castle that had not been touched by the goblin riots, and laid her gently on the bed. Her pulse was unnaturally slow, but it was there. Still there was little he could do, as no healer in the Underground could be trusted to hide a mortal patient from the Great Council's sight. All he could do was watch helplessly by her bedside.

The garden from her dreams was now quite familiar to Sarah, but this time it felt different. It was as if-she could feel the garden _breathing. _No, it wasn't just the garden. If she thought about it, she could feel the bushes outside the garden, and the stone walls outside of that, farther and farther out until she could see in her mind's eye exactly where she was. She was at the heart of the Labyrinth, and it was breathing…in time with her own breaths. Her eyes grew wide.

She could feel it all around her, every part of it. She wasn't just in the heart of the Labyrinth; she _was _the heart of the Labyrinth. Tentatively, she raised a hand in front of her to examine it. Just as she suspected, she was glowing with some kind of radiant energy that warped the air around her. She heard a noise in the grass and looked up. That woman was standing before her. But somehow she looked different, duller. The woman approached Sarah, smiling.

"I- I don't understand," Sarah said, though she was beginning to understand very well, and did not want to face it.

"You'll learn in time," the woman replied, "I did."

"But who are you?"

The woman laughed, "I? I am a dream. The Forgotten Queen." She looked at Sarah with a sidelong glance.

"Shall I tell you a story? It is a good story, now that it has a happy ending."

Sarah nodded dumbly, not trusting herself to speak. The woman smiled indulgently.

"Once upon a time," she began, "there lived a king and queen who were very much in love, and who ruled their kingdom together in peace and prosperity. For many years they were very happy, and wanted for nothing. But as the years passed, the queen became sad. For more than anything in the world, she wanted a child. Yet year after year the couple remained childless. They called on many healers, who came and offered them potions and remedies. But nothing worked. One day they called on a soothsayer, who prophesied that a child was not to be between them. But the queen could not accept this, and she was determined to have a child no matter what the price. And so she turned to her magic to help her.

It is a common practice for Fae to steal children from the Aboveground. But in order to turn a human child Fae, it must be won, not stolen. So the queen designed a game, a maze with a series of challenges to be defeated. If a human wished away a child and could not defeat the maze, than the child would be won fairly, and could be raised by the king and queen as their heir. The maze need only be run and lost once, and then it could be dismantled and forgotten.

The queen told the king of her plan and asked for his help in creating the maze. He was reluctant at first, saying that these things were not done for a reason, and that it was dangerous. But he loved the queen, and wanted to make her happy. So he agreed.

They spent months creating the Labyrinth, and it was a wonderful thing. It was woven through with magic, and they had given much of their own power over to its creation. It seemed almost to have a consciousness of its own. It was sure to confound all mortals. And so it was with great hope that they began the last spell, to activate the binding contract that would win them their child.

It was clear that something was wrong as soon as they began. The magic was acting stubborn and inflexible, unwilling to be manipulated. They lost control of the Labyrinth, and the spell turned in on itself. It took hold of the queen, binding her within its power, and brought her to a secret dimension inaccessible to all other forms of life. Then, exhausted, the spell died. But the queen lived on as the soul of the Labyrinth itself, a prisoner of her own creation. The Labyrinth worked as it was designed to, and the queen sensed the runners as they passed through. The Labyrinth needed her, and she knew that her only chance of freedom would be to find someone to replace her. But it would have to be the right someone, because the Labyrinth would not accept just anyone. It would have to be someone with an imagination great enough to support and feed the Labyrinth's ever-changing landscape. Such a mind is rare.

Five hundred years, _five hundred years_ I waited! And then you came. I could sense, as soon as you stepped through the gate, that the Labyrinth took a liking to you. But I could not perform the transfer at once. The Labyrinth worked slowly. I had to wait for it to take a hold of you, bit by bit siphoning its powers into you, into your thoughts and dreams, until I had a strong enough hold. And now, at last, I will be free."

"And what about me?" Sarah demanded, though she was deeply in shock, and her heart was breaking.

"You have been very helpful, and I thought you should know what you have done for me, and for Jareth," she smiled, "We will be reunited at last," she paused, then continued blithely,

"Really I am giving you a gift, child. It is not all so bad here, and this way you will live forever. Isn't that what all mortals desire?"

Sarah did not answer, and the woman did not seem to care. She turned away, stepped through a door in the hedge, and was gone. Suddenly alert and panicked, Sarah tried to follow. But some invisible force blocked her, and she could not go through the door.

"Wait!" she cried. It was too late. The woman had already disappeared.

Hours past, and still Jareth kept vigil over Sarah's nearly lifeless form. He did not speak or stir, merely watched over her, holding one of her cold hands clasped in both of his own. Eventually he fell asleep in the chair he had pulled up by the bed.

He awoke when a hand touched his shoulder lightly, and a voice spoke his name.

"_Jareth," _the voice said again.

Sarah still lay unconscious on the bed. He stood up and turned around swiftly-and involuntarily took a step away from what he saw. Struggling to keep his composure, he stared, disbelieving, at the strange vision before him.

"I thought you had died," he said at last, in a voice as quiet as midnight in the dead of winter, and just a little unsteady. The specter smiled at him, and took a step forward to match the step he had taken away. She held out her arms to him.

"Five hundred years," he said, still unwilling to bridge the distance between them, "For five hundred years, Cassia, I thought I had lost you to the terrible magic we had wrought together. I grieved for you-" he did not finish this thought, as the woman, his wife, silenced him with an embrace.

"Shh," she murmured, "I know, I have suffered from it too. But all of that is behind us now."

Numbly, he returned the embraced.

He should be happy. He should be overjoyed. After all, he had only known Sarah for two brief years. Such time was almost nothing for an immortal. And Cassia had been his wife for thirty years: thirty years in which they had mostly been happy, or at least content. But something about this, here and now, didn't feel right. Gently he pulled away from her, and again took a step back.

"What happened?" he asked, referring to the time after the spell overtook her. He tried to keep his tone neutral as he thought for a moment of Sarah, and a terrible suspicion crept into his mind.

Cassia's smile flickered briefly before she answered.

"The spell trapped me inside of it, inside of the Labyrinth. I felt each runner pass through, and I could feel when you entered, but I could make no sign."

The grief in her voice was genuine, and he could imagine how she must have suffered, trapped as she was. She had always hated feeling trapped. In the last few years of their marriage, she had made that abundantly clear. Her strong wish for a child, they both knew, had been fed by the idea that having a child to care for would bring them together again, and save their relationship.

He pitied her now, but if she had done what he suspected, that would not stop the tide of his anger.

"And how did you escape?" He studied her intently as he asked this question, though his eyes strayed for an instant to the silent figure on the bed. Cassia followed the direction of his glance, and for the first time she noticed Sarah. Unhappy with the way her husband was receiving her return after all these years, she began to form suspicions of her own.

"That is the mortal who secured my escape," she told him bluntly, "What is she doing here?"

Despite his anger, he did not wish to hurt her unduly, and so still he spoke gently.

"You knew that things between us were coming to an end even back then," he reminded her, "And when the spell took you, I believed you were gone. I waited, I searched, and then I mourned for you. But eventually I moved on."

Cassia looked sharply at the girl on the bed, then back at Jareth.

"No," she said firmly, as if her words held some power, "It was a long time. You were lonely. But I forgive you. Let us both forget her, and we can still be together once more." She smiled her most magnanimous smile, as if she was being very generous with this statement.

"I'm afraid that's not possible. And seeing as she matters very much to me, I would ask that whatever you've done with Sarah, you bring her back right now." His words were still polite, but his tone had a tangibly sharp edge to it.

"I cannot," Cassia told him, looking both furious and just a touch triumphant, "even if I wanted to, I could not. She is bound to the Labyrinth now, and it finds her a very good fit to its purpose. It will not give her up."

"Perhaps not by choice," Jareth uttered darkly. Then he stormed out of the room.

**What? You thought I was actually going to let them be **_**happy? **_**Psh, they're going to have to get through a few more plot twists first. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Here I am, once again proving that I'm still alive. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy! **

Sarah sat on the bench and gazed vaguely into space, feeling dazed and overwhelmed by her current predicament. She knew that if she stopped to think about it properly, the enormity of it all would come crashing down on her and she would collapse beneath the weight of it. And it seemed that once again, despite such personal hazards as having just been trapped inside the heart of the Labyrinth in a tiny magical garden for what could very well be the entire rest of eternity, all she could think about was Jareth. Talk about priorities… But, he was _married? _Somehow, amidst all of their serious arguing and flirting, he had failed to mention that small detail. The thought left her feeling cold. It seemed that just when she was beginning to truly know him, the world was turned upside down and it turned out that she really didn't know him at all.

Not so very far away, Jareth gazed up at the looming black gates that were to be his entrance to the Labyrinth. He knew the Labyrinth. After all, he had helped create it. And so he knew that the Labyrinth always arranged itself to oppose its challenger based on the contents of that challenger's mind. There was no way to stop that process: even when its challenger was also its creator. The gates swung silently open, and there lay before him a path, at first glance straight and simple. The path was dark, shaded on either side by a line of trees, the branches of which met and tangled overhead to block out the sun. Steeling his resolve for what lay beyond, Jareth straightened his posture and looked straight ahead into the shadows. He entered.

Sarah gasped a little as she felt the sudden change in atmosphere all around her. Someone had entered the Labyrinth. She could feel it shaping to the mind of the runner: twisting and growing here, shrinking and hiding there, crackling with old magic as it transformed. She knew at once who it was: she could sense him. And despite her anger and confusion at that moment, it gave her hope.

Jareth walked through the leafy tunnel at a cautious pace, braced for the challenges to begin at any moment. But all was eerily silent and still. Perhaps this was part of the puzzle then, to escape this setting and find a way forward. Just as he thought this though, there was a rustling in the leaves and a small creature dropped from the trees onto the path in front of him. It was a sleek, cat-like creature that reached no higher than his knees in height. Its fur was pure white and its eyes a luminous gold. He watched it warily, and the creature stared back at him with wide, frightened eyes. It mewed, and the sound was clearly that of an animal still in infancy. Against his better judgment, Jareth knelt down and extended a hand to the animal. At first it shied away from his touch, still watching him carefully. Then, cautiously, it allowed itself to be petted, and then rubbed its head against his hand in that way that cats sometimes do. Jareth smiled.

Soon he stood, still very aware of the journey he must complete. But the cat mewed again when he left it, and began to wind itself around his legs, tripping him up as he tried to walk. He laughed, and knelt back down to face the creature.

"You're going to have to let me go," he told it, "I have something important I need to do."

The cat watched him steadily, uncomprehending. There was something so trusting in its expression. Finally, he reached down and picked the creature up: perhaps to place it back in a tree or perhaps to take it with him. But as soon as it was off the ground, the tiny beautiful thing turned to ash in his hands. The black dust trickled between his fingers and disappeared in the dirt below. After a moment, Jareth stood up and brushed the remaining dust from his gloves. Then he kept walking. He knew the creature had really been nothing more than a mirage. Still, he was shaken by the experience.

As he walked along the path, the landscape began to change. The trees thinned the further along he went, until he was out of the dense forest completely. Instead he found himself entering a vast and empty plane, a seemingly endless desert. At first he thought the path had ended, but then he saw the faint outlines of it in the sand, veering off to the left and to the right. He went left.

A false sun beat down on him and soon his clothes were damp with sweat. The wind blew gritty sand into his eyes and his throat ached from sucking in the moistureless air. This went on for some time. And then, the voices started. They were whispers at first, soft, plaintive wailing and incomprehensible muttering. But as he walked, they increased steadily in number and volume until he was almost frozen to the spot by the shear power of the cacophony whirling around him. And he could hear the words now of all the individual voices, accusing and pleading.

"Please, give me back my child, please God."

"Where is my sister? What have you done with her?"

"I didn't mean it, of course I didn't mean it!"

"You monster! You have no right!"

On and on they raged against him, as the stinging hot wind tore at his hair and clothes. But they were voices he had heard many times before, and this challenge at least was familiar to him; he had lived with it for all these long years. By now he was almost deaf to the pleas and the anger alike. He walked on.

Meanwhile, Sarah still sat in her little green garden on her little white bench. But she was no longer fretting. Instead, she was focusing. Sitting perfectly still with eyes closed, she focused on opening her mind to the Labyrinth and luring it deeper inside of her. She knew it was working when she felt vaguely the Labyrinth's confusion at the hole she had opened in her mental defenses. The Labyrinth was already a part of her, but she had been keeping it out of her very inner sanctum by sheer force of mental power, a power that she saw in her mind's eye as almost a physical wall of thick stones. And because it didn't need that part of her, the Labyrinth hadn't pressed her for access. But now there was a clear hole in that wall, inviting it in.

Sarah's eyes were open, but she was not physically seeing anymore. All her energy was focused inside of herself. She felt the magic hovering at that entranceway, could feel its hesitation and curiosity. She pushed a few bricks out and opened the hole a little wider. As if this was all the encouragement it needed, the magic, in the form of a swirling, shimmering wind, rush in through the hole all at once. Sarah shuddered a little, but then she smiled. This was good. The closer it got, the more she could understand it. And if she understood it, then maybe, just maybe, she could control it.

The landscape was changing again, as it had several times now. This, Jareth realized with weary certainty, invariably meant a new challenge. From forest to desert to swamp to sunny meadow to snowy hills to…well, he wasn't quite sure where he was now. The ground felt like craggy stone interspersed with grass: whatever other features the land possessed were hidden by a fog so thick that if he stretched out his arm he could not see his own hand at the end of it. Finding the path, if there was one to be found, was hopeless. He hesitated. _Should he turn back and go in another direction? _Just as he was wondering this, the fog began to drift away and dissolve, revealing a path that was clear and straight, carved through a rocky terrain. Also clear now was a sort of giant nest made of tree branches, rocks, and mud, sitting on the side of the path. Beside it, planted squarely in his way and watching him through yellow, slitted eyes, was an enormous black dragon. Jareth sized the monster up and almost laughed as he recalled something, "_There are many dangerous creatures in the Labyrinth. You did not come across even the half of them_," he had told her. She did not know how true that statement had been. Of course, she also did not have almost eight centuries of life experiences for the Labyrinth to draw on in its creations.

The monster was huge: almost the size of a house even as it crouched down with wings folded, surveying him. Its swarthy skin was thick and spiked like a crocodile's, colored an iridescent, oily black. The creature's lizard-like head swayed gently on its long neck, and it opened its jaws a little to display its many rows of gleaming sharp teeth. But it made no other move to attack. It seemed to be waiting to see if Jareth would back down or if he would continue to approach.

In the castle beyond the goblin city, Cassia stood with silent dignity as she surveyed the view from one of the tall, arched windows. Her outer appearance well concealed the turmoil of her mind at that moment, the deep hurt of her husband's betrayal after the many long years spent dreaming of their reunion. It was a hard blow to take. There was much to think on: many feelings to sort out and her next course of action to plan. And so she did not at all welcome the disturbance of her moment of reflection when she heard and sensed the hunting party appear behind her. She whirled around to face them, and struggling to keep her composure, spoke.

"What do _you_ want?"

Three members of the Council had been sent; Lior, Jasminda, and Riess, a strongly built, square-jawed character who carried a large hammer with him at all times. All knew the details of Cassia's disappearance, because Jareth had appealed to the court for help when he had failed personally to retrieve her. The court had declared her dead. Yet none showed any surprise at seeing her for the first time in five hundred years. They all merely nodded at her in greeting, and then Jasminda got straight to the point.

"Where is the girl Jareth has been hiding? We know she returned here only an hour ago."

"She is dead," Cassia answered coldly, "Or as good as. Her soul has been woven into the fabric of the Labyrinth, where even your finest spells failed to retrieve me from, or even to recognize my existence there. As for her body, yes, it is here in the castle. I can show you to it if you like."

"And Jareth?" Lior asked slyly, already guessing at the answer. Cassia looked at him sharply, but after only a brief pause replied,

"My fool husband has gone after her, into the Labyrinth. I should not worry though, he will not succeed."

"Whether he succeeds or fails is no longer relevant," Jasminda cut in, "What can you tell us about how the girl found her way into our realm?"

"That's simple. The Labyrinth has been forming an attachment to her since she first ran it, in preparation for installing her as a replacement for me at its heart. Her ability to travel here and do magic were mere side effects of the spell," Cassia explained.

"Are you certain that is all?"

"I am."

"Then the girl is of no further interest to us," Jasminda said, and turned to Riess, "I believe a standard memory cleansing is in order, and then she may be returned Aboveground." With a nod from Jasminda, Reiss left the room to perform his assigned task. Jasminda turned her attention back to Cassia.

"As for your husband, should he return, he will be facing trial for his transgressions against the Court, a list of which you will receive soon along with the date of the hearing. The hearing will be held whether he is there or not, but I would strongly advise him to attend so that he may plead his case. Now, if that is all-"

"Wait," Cassia implored, "The girl. Instead of returning her Aboveground, may she stay in the castle a while longer?"

Jasminda looked a little surprised at the request, but then shrugged elegantly.

"If you wish. It is no longer any concern of mine what happens to her," then she spoke into the air, but Cassia knew she was communicating with Reiss in the other room, "Cassia does not wish you to transport the girl. If you have completed the cleanse then our business here is finished."

Within moments Reiss reappeared beside Jasminda and Lior.

"Farewell, Cassia," Reiss said. Jasminda and Lior nodded formally, and then the three departed. When they had gone, Cassia turned again to the window. From her quiet position, she stared absently out into the distance, and thought.

She did not have long, however, before her ruminations were interrupted once again.

"I bet I know what you're thinking of," came a soft, singsong voice from nearby.

Cassia did not turn to face him, angry that he had taken her by surprise.

"Why are you still here, Lior?"

"I should think that was obvious: because we share a common interest, that thing that you were thinking about just now. And I'd like to make you a proposition." He took a step closer to her. His words were met with silence. Then finally, Cassia turned to face him.

"And what," she asked icily, "is this thing on my mind that could possibly induce me to make a deal with you?"

Lior's amber eyes shone malevolently as he met her gaze, and he spoke that one delicious word that he knew would gain her cooperation in his game.

"_Revenge._"

The Labyrinth was pouring into Sarah's inner mind with a painful force, and she could not have stopped it now if she wanted to. Eyes still closed, she held her head in her hands, willing it not to explode from the pressure of the vast, whirling cloud of places and creatures and ideas and pure magic that was now filling it. Images were passing through her mind in confused flashes: memories of places and things created by the Labyrinth intermingled with memories of her own life, flying by in the hundreds, the thousands maybe. Sarah slid from the bench and fell onto her knees in the dewy grass. _It was too much. It was just too much._

In the rocky, barren landscape, the dragon stood out against the pale sky like an enormous black gargoyle looming on the roof of a church. Jareth knew that even with all of his magical force, it would be hard to defeat such a large and powerful creature. What's more, dragons tended to be fairly magic-resistant: a useful and unique trait they had developed through millions of years of evolution. So he continued to stare at it, unsure of how to approach this challenge most wisely.

The dragon, though, was growing impatient. It snorted and shook its head, exhaling puffs of smoke. Finally it breathed a stream of fire that landed barely three feet away from where Jareth stood. The scalding heat of the flames blew over him. Turning away from the heat, Jareth noticed something that had been there all along, but which he had somehow missed. Lying gleaming in the path, squarely between him and the dragon, was a sword. It had a thick, sturdy grip, and a sharp, double-edged blade perfect for slicing through scales. It was clear to him now how the challenge was supposed to go. He focused on the sword and it slid across the dirt and pebbles towards him, coming to a rattling halt at his feet. He looked at it a moment longer. Then, reluctantly, he stooped down and picked it up.

The minute the sword was in his hands, the dragon attacked. While he stood there dumbly holding the weapon, the beast's great head darted forward like a snake's, and it blasted him with flames. Jareth quickly sidestepped the attack. He was burned slightly on his shoulder as he retreated, but only because he very stupidly had not been expecting the attack. He dodged easily the flurry of lesser attacks that followed, even as the dragon swerved and lunged, trying to claw him and to burn him simultaneously.

Yet in this back and forth game he was kept always on the defensive, and just as the dragon could not burn him, he could not get near enough to any of its vulnerable spots to pierce it with the sword. They continued this dance for some time, and Jareth watched the dragon's huge yellow eyes following him, calculating. It was getting angrier after each miss, snapping at the air with its powerful jaws and thrashing its tail. Then suddenly, it spread its leathery wings, and in one oddly gracefully movement, took flight.

Jareth watched as it rose up into the air, higher and higher until it was hardly more than a black speck in the distant sky. And then for a moment, a terrible silence fell over the world as he looked up at that black speck in the sky, and waited.

The wait was mere moments: mere moments where each passing instant was its own lifetime, contained in a single heartbeat. And then, he could see it descending. It was speeding downwards talons first like a hawk waiting to scoop up a mouse. As it got closer, its wings seemed to stretch over the entire sky. He knew that he could try to run from it again, and he might actually succeed in escaping. He knew this, but he did not run or even move.

Then all at once the creature was close enough that he could see the thin black slits at the centers of its yellow eyes, and it was digging its talons sharply, excruciatingly into his shoulders and his back, and he was digging his sword into the weak point just below its collarbone, deeper and deeper into its heart. When he stabbed it, the beast let out a whining scream that sounded eerily like a human child's. One shining eye stared into Jareth's eyes as the creature fell heavily to the ground. It deliberately lashed out one last time as it fell, and its talons left three deep slice marks across his chest. Then its head dropped, the life gone from its eyes, and all was still.

Jareth felt no sense of triumph as he pulled the bloodied sword from the dragon's chest; there was only a strange remorse at having destroyed something so magnificent. For a moment he stood silently to mourn it, even as the pain of the wounds it had inflicted on him pulsed through his body in a sharp, agonizing rhythm. Then, taking the sword with him in case of whatever might lie ahead, he continued down the path.

The rocky terrain continued for some time and he allowed himself to be lulled into a sense of security, thinking that the next challenge would only come with the next change of scenery. Meanwhile, however, he had to deal with the challenge of walking with his increasingly painful wounds. He had found, without much surprise, that magic could not heal them. It was all he could do to create makeshift bandages of his torn shirt, and continue onwards.

The continuing onwards was becoming more and more difficult the longer he walked. The bandages were soaked through with blood, and his breathing came in short, shallow gasps. Several times he stopped and just lay down by the road, the searing pain almost beyond endurance. But he always got up again and kept walking. Then he stopped taking breaks, because he knew that if he lay down for even a moment he wouldn't get back up. The false sun hung low on the horizon, burning red. He did not have much time left, and he did not even know how much further he had to go.

The Labyrinth was going through Sarah's mind, rifling through all of her memories, experiences good and bad, old and new. And in the processes it was inadvertently showing her some of its own past. But it was all too much, far too much. She could not sort through the jumble of images as they flew by, could barely even tell which memories were hers and which were foreign. All she knew was that she had to make it stop. She screamed. The sharp sound filled her ears, and it took her a moment to realize that it was her own voice making the noise. The shock was enough to pull her out of the swirling cloud of images, and to allow her, just for a moment, to pull the breaks and make everything stop. Suddenly she could look around. The space she was in was white and empty, except for the frozen cloud of images. But as she stood still, she realized it was not quite as empty as she thought. The wind of the spell was there with her, and it was anxious that she had stopped its progress. First it began to swirl around her legs, almost knocking her over. Then it plucked at her clothes and whipped her hair into her eyes, howling furiously. Sarah would not budge though, and it seemed that now she was in control, and the spell spirit could do nothing worse than howl and batter at her.

"Oh, shush," she told it, and walked over to the cloud of images suspended in the air. Having no better method, she began to sort through them one by one, hoping to learn something important about the nature of the Labyrinth.

Jareth trudged on wearily, his steps heavier by the minute. He thought that he heard water up ahead. He stumbled towards it, half blind with fatigue, until he came out of the rocky terrain into a simple meadow with a stream running through it. Almost automatically, he knelt down by the stream to get a drink of water. But the cupped water kept running through his fingers and he could not bring it to his mouth to drink. It was too much. He collapsed on the bank of the stream, and made no move to get up.

It was then that he heard an all too familiar voice. He raised his head and saw Cassia standing there across the stream. Her eyes looked younger, gentler, than he last remembered them, and she wore flowers woven into her long, black hair. She used to wear her hair that way when they had first started courting, when he used to tell her that she was like all the most beautiful things about springtime. He had been more poetic back then, and far less jaded.

"Jareth," she called to him, "Why did you leave me here? Why didn't you save _me?_"

"I tried," he told her, though she didn't seem to hear him, "I really tried."

"Why did you abandon me?" she asked again, "Why are you abandoning me now? Don't you love me anymore?"

When Jareth had first seen Sarah, he had thought that she looked a little like Cassia, and it had caught his interest. Now as he lay prone on the bank of the stream, he thought of how Cassia looked a little like Sarah, but in fact they were nothing alike. Cassia had always wanted him to protect her from the world at every turn; she was suspicious and sometimes deliberately cruel. He had been fascinated by her, wanted to keep her safe and did not mind when she sometimes turned against him because he knew she did it really out of fear. But over the years he had grown tired of her fearfulness and her meanness, as these negative qualities had only increased in her.

Sarah, though, Sarah was strong and fierce and independent, yet still so open and trusting and eager to learn new things. He could not believe that he had finally earned her love, and even now he wasn't sure that he deserved it, the love of such a beautiful person. And secretly, he was afraid that he might someday abandon her in the same way that, he could not help but feel, he had abandoned Cassia. _No. He could not let himself think like that. _

"No!" He shouted, though shouting was painful, "People change. I've changed, you've changed, and neither of us are the same people who fell in love with each other. And yes, I did not get even this far when I came after you, but I did not know half so much then. Nor, plainly, was I this much in love you. I'm sorry, truly I am, but that is the truth of it. And, It is not. My. Fault."

This time, the phantom Cassia heard him. Her delicate face contorted in anger, all the sweetness peeled away suddenly like a mask.

"You cannot do this to me," she told him, in an eerily toneless voice. She stepped into the stream, and began to wade across. Suddenly, she had a dagger in her hand as she approached him.

"You betrayed me, you left me all alone, and now you must pay," she whispered darkly as she leaned over him. He lacked the strength even to move or to push her away. The sword he had carried with him was lain only an arm's length away on the grass, now useless to him. Then suddenly, miraculously, he heard another voice that seemed to be coming from the sky.

"Jareth!" It was Sarah's voice, coming seemingly out of the ether but clearly in great distress. At the sound, he felt a surge of energy inside him that he didn't know he had. He reached out and grabbed Cassia's arm, and wrested the dagger from her hand. Undeterred, she began an attempt to strangle him, but he held her still and pinned her down. She snarled at him like a wild animal, but soon had to admit defeat. Without another word, the figure disappeared as if it had never been. Still he had no doubt that the dagger she held could have done him real harm.

Sarah's search was becoming increasingly frantic, as she began to despair of ever finding anything. Then suddenly, she came across something that made her pause and catch her breath. Among the hundreds of images through which she searched, Sarah had somehow found what she was sure was the present; happening this instant in the Labyrinth: Jareth was fallen by a riverbank, and an image of Cassia was leaning over him with a dagger. Sarah was horrified by what she saw, and called out in despair. With what happened next, she could almost imagine that he had heard her. She breathed a sigh of relief when the Cassia clone disappeared. But then she saw how gravely wounded Jareth was, and she caught her breath again. There had to be some way to get to him, there had to be.

The spell had been quiet for some time now as she searched. It seemed to be sulking. But suddenly it stirred up again, blowing fiercely all around her, like she was inside of a tornado. What did it not want her to do? She remembered how Jareth had told her that magic was a living thing that had to be tamed, and suddenly she had an absurd image of the Labyrinth as some kind of enormous puppy in need of training.

"Stop that," she told it sternly, as the wind threatened to bring her to her knees. The wind howled louder.

"I mean it. Stop that or when I get out of here I won't come back to visit you, or bring you any new ideas to grow on. I can make you get out of my head."

Technically this was true. Sarah had a very firm control on her own mind. But if she did that, she would not be able to escape, and she would not be able to save Jareth. She and the Labyrinth would die together.

The spell wind slowed its crazy dance around her, and she could feel it weighing the options: to die, or to let her take control? It circled her a few more times, whistling softly, and Sarah feared that it would choose the worst. Then, finally, it slowed and quieted down into a silent stillness.

"That's better," Sarah told it approvingly, "Now, how do I do this?"

Almost meekly, several images from the cloud were blown forward. Sarah studied them, and frowned. It seemed that if they were both to escape from here, she would have to let Jareth come to her. All she could do was help a little.

He wasn't sure that he could get up. He had lost a lot of blood, and his brief surge of energy was gone along with the probably imagined voice. One of his arms dangled in the cold water of the stream, and the rest of him lay sinking into the cold, muddy bank. The sky showed a gray twilight, quickly darkening into night. To his right was the rocky terrain from which he had come. To his left were the stream and then an endless green meadow, empty.

But then, as he looked, something began to grow rapidly out of the meadow; it was hedge. And in that hedge, was a door.

His mind told him that it was just another illusion, another challenge that this time he had no chance of winning. But hope told him otherwise. Slowly, painfully, he rose up from the bank, wincing and gasping at the stabs of pain that shot through him. Then, stumbling at every step, he waded across the stream and walked through the meadow to the hedge. He opened the door.

Sarah opened her eyes as the garden door creaked open. She ran to him as he stumbled through the entranceway, and caught him up in an embrace, oblivious to the blood from his chest that soaked into her white blouse. Then she laid him down gently on the grass, and seeing him as he was, wept. Her tears ran from her cheeks and fell onto his face as she leaned over him, whispering that everything would be alright. He smiled up at her weakly, and then his eyes closed. He was so still that for a moment she feared he had died. But his heart still beat fragilely in his wounded chest. She leaned over him and wept freely.

As Sarah cried, the garden itself seemed to shake with the echoes of her sighs and moans. And from the ground, small tendrils of plant life were shooting up, and curling around Jareth's lifeless form. When Sarah noticed what they were doing, she tried to brush them away or tear them off, but the process only sped up as they just kept growing. Within a few moments, he was entirely covered in a cocoon of vines that wrapped around him tightly, making him look like some kind of strange mummy. Sarah had stopped trying to fight it, and was now only watching in fascinated horror.

For a long, quiet moment, nothing happened. Then, the plant cocoon began to glow: the vines began cracking like overcooked pottery, and finally they crumbled and fell away in pieces. When it was all over, Jareth was revealed, still laying motionless in his blood-soaked bandages, just as before. Then, he opened his eyes and looked up at her.

"Well, that was odd," he said, looking just as bewildered as she felt.

"I wonder," Sarah began. And very delicately, she peeled off the bandage around his chest. The skin there was smooth and unharmed.

"Can you sit up?" She asked.

He did so, with no trouble. He then removed the bandages around both of his shoulders himself.

He laughed with relief, and Sarah joined in joyfully. Jareth stopped before she did, and looked at her thoughtfully.

"Did you do that?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she told him, "But actually, I think the Labyrinth did it. That is, the Labyrinth and me, we're…kind of…very attached now. Even more attached than Cassia was to it. That's how I got the door to appear where you were."

"Amazing," he murmured, as Sarah helped him to stand.

"Which reminds me," Sarah continued, "You have a _wife_!"

Jareth winced, "Yes, I know. A vision of her almost killed me not so long ago." He caught Sarah's expression, and abruptly became more serious.

"Sarah, you have to believe me, I thought she was _dead. _Five hundred years ago!"

"And what about now?" Sarah asked, a flicker of doubt in her voice.

"Now? Sarah, now I love _you_, and I don't think that anything will ever change that. What Cassia and I had, I won't deny that it was there, but it's over now, and it was nothing compared to what I feel for you."

Had this been any other time, Sarah would have continued to argue. But right now, so recently reunited, all she really cared about was that he was alive and safe, here with her. She smiled warmly, and he smiled back.

"On a different note, do you think you could use your amazing new chumminess with the Labyrinth to get us out of here?" he asked. Sarah frowned, unsure of the answer herself.

"I hope so."

Even as she said it, the garden was dissolving around them, and the Castle Beyond the Goblin City was clearly visible ahead of them, down a straight path that looked no longer than half a mile. Sarah blinked as the new scene solidified before them.

"Well, that was unexpectedly simple."

Jareth laughed, "After what I've just been through, precious, I could use a little unexpectedly simple."

He turned to lead her down the path, but Sarah caught his hand to stop him. He turned back to face her.

"What is it?"

Sarah smiled, "Don't look so worried, it's nothing bad. It's just you're forgetting: You're really here, but I'm still lying wherever you left me when I passed out. Right now I'm just a um, representation of my own consciousness, I guess. Which means I can go from the Labyrinth back to my body, but not in between. So, I'll see you when you get up there." She closed her eyes to disappear, but Jareth felt suddenly anxious about loosing her again.

"_Wait_," he said. She opened her eyes to look at him questioningly, and he felt foolish for his inexplicable fears. So he covered his fear with a mischievous grin.

"Don't I get a goodbye kiss?"

Sarah laughed, "I'll be seeing you in a few minutes, you fool."

Nonetheless, she walked willingly into his opened arms, and he folded her into an embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and playfully gave him a short, chaste kiss on the mouth. He frowned at her, mockingly stern.

"I defeated a dragon for you. Is that all the thanks I get?"

Sarah opened her eyes wide and put a hand to her heart in an exaggerated pose.

"A dragon? Goodness, here I thought all this time that you were the big bad villain, and it turns out that you're actually my knight in shining armor."

He smirked, "A knight errant, maybe."

"A king, truly," she replied, and kissed him fervently. He returned the kiss with equal fervor and held her tightly, not wanting to let her go.

When finally she pulled away, she smiled softly at him, and he knew she could tell that he was still anxious.

"I'll tell you what," she said, "We'll leave at the same time. Instead of walking, just pop over magically like you sometimes do, and the time will be even shorter."

"Alright," he said, and then kissed her again. For a moment she responded eagerly, then pulled away again and tried to look stern. He smiled.

"Come _on_, Jareth," she sighed, "I'm leaving on the count of three, and if you want-"

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," he said, his hand playing with a strand of her hair.

"I'm going to start counting: One…Two…"

They were still standing very close, and Jareth leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "I should warn you though, I left you in my bed, and when we get back I would like very much to continue our conversation there, though I don't think that there will be much talking."

"…Three" Sarah muttered, her eyes wide and the blush already forming on her cheeks. They disappeared together.

Jareth reappeared in his room, and found to his relief that Sarah was still there on the bed, though she appeared to be sleeping gently. It was only then that he remembered Cassia. He walked over to the bed.

"Sarah?" he asked.

"Mm," she answered sleepily, not opening her eyes. But she was here, and she was conscious. That was enough.

"I'll be right back," he told her. She did not reply. He left the room, thinking he would let her sleep for a while.

He took a walk around the castle, and the grounds. Cassia was nowhere to be found. He checked the security spells, and they showed him that four Fae had all been here recently, but had left. His brow knotted with concern. Cassia of course was one of these, but who were the other three, and what had they wanted? If they had come for Sarah, then surely they would have been able to take her. But she was still here and seemingly unharmed.

Just for assurance, he walked again around the castle and placed extra defensive spells at all its key points. Now no one would be able to enter without a fight, and this at least would give him some time to figure out what to do next. Feeling slightly better, he went back up to his room.

Sarah was still asleep. He went quietly over to her and sat down on the edge of the bed. She looked very peaceful in her sleep, and he felt a little bad waking her up. Not that bad, though.

"Saraah," he called, "time to wake up now."

Sarah stirred, and muttered something that sounded vaguely like "don'twanna, goaway," as she turned over. He waited. Eventually she slowly opened one eye to peer out at the world. When she caught sight of him, her whole demeanor changed abruptly. She opened both eyes and sat straight up, looking positively alarmed.

"Hello, love," he grinned at her. But she shrank back against the headboard, real confusion and fear in her eyes, and right then he knew that something had gone terribly wrong.

"What am I doing here?" she asked tremulously. Jareth at first did not reply.

"Sarah," he asked warily, "do you know who I am?"

"You're Jareth, the Goblin King," she replied, but there was no warmth in her tone, "and you still haven't answered my question."

"I think you have suffered some memory loss," he tried to tell her gently, but now she glared at him.

"It may be four years since I've last seen you, but don't think I've forgotten what happened."

"That's just it though. It has not been four years since we last met. I saw you just a few hours ago."

"Then why don't I remember?" she demanded, "The last thing I remember is coming home after shopping with Cathy, and then…I don't know what then. Something must have happened. Did you do something to me?" she accused.

"No," he replied gravely, "but someone has."

He thought of the four Fae that had been in his castle. One of them, clearly, had performed some kind of a memory cleanse on Sarah, probably so that she lost any information she had learned about the Great Council or the Fae in general. And now she also remembered nothing of what had passed between them this second time around, when things had turned out so differently.

Sarah, for her part, watched his mournful expression as these thoughts passed through his mind, and somehow she felt less afraid. That did not, however, change the fact that she was lying in a strange bed, in a dress that she did not remember putting on, with the villain of her childhood sitting on the edge of said bed. Not to mention-

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" she blurted out, before she could think better of it.

His mouth quirked into a strange smile at this question.

"I was mauled by a dragon and I had to tear my shirt up to use it for bandages," he told her, knowing full well how this would sound.

"You don't look wounded to me," Sarah said testily, feeling that she was being mocked.

"I'm a fast healer," he shrugged, "Besides, it hardly seems necessary that I should have to wear formal dress in my own bedroom."

The possible implications of this statement were by no means lost on Sarah. She wasn't just in Jareth's castle; she was in his room, and in his bed. And she could not remember how she got there. She paled, and looked at him uncertainly.

"Do we…Did we…?" she asked tentatively, unable to voice her own questions.

He smiled wickedly at the unspoken ending to this thought, and deliberately took his time answering her.

"Many things happened between us that you don't remember," he paused, "but that particular thing, is not one of them."

"Oh," was all Sarah said. At this point, she was blushing.

She could feel him watching her as she studied the quilt with a determined interest. Finally she looked up. Their eyes met, and she was startled by the expression she found in his gaze. He looked concerned, thoughtful, and inexplicably, deeply sad. In fact, he looked as if his heart were breaking that very instant as she stared at him. Maybe that's what made her do what she did next.

She was filled with the strong urge to be close to him, and to comfort him somehow. Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him gently. When she pulled away, she wore a puzzled frown.

"You feel-familiar," she told him. Then she kissed him again: hesitantly at first, and then eagerly. He responded with a passion so achingly fierce that once more she was thrown off guard. She pulled away and looked up into his face, trying to read his expression.

"Jareth," she asked quietly, "what _did _happen between us?"

He looked at her despairingly before answering.

"Whatever I say will be nothing more than a story to you. And why should you trust me?"

"I shouldn't," she told him plainly, "In fact I have good reason not to. And yet…I feel…" she looked at him in confusion. She saw hope in his eyes, and quickly looked back down at the cover.

"I don't know," she concluded, "I guess I feel, it's like, I'm missing something important." That wasn't it exactly, but she could not explain it better. She laughed mirthlessly, "Well, that part's hardly a mystery. I'm missing an entire chunk of my memory. Though I'm not sure how much."

"Two months, five days, Aboveground time," Jareth answered promptly.

Sarah looked taken aback.

"That's a long time," she said.

"Normally I would disagree," he replied, "but in this case, you've no idea."

Generally Sarah had little patience for cryptic, knowing statements of this kind, but his expression restrained her from making a snappy reply. She got the sense that somehow, those two months had been of vital importance in her life and his. So instead of losing her temper, she asked the obvious question.

"Is there any way to bring my memory back?"

She still wasn't sure why she trusted him, but right now she did. But as she met his grim gaze, she knew the answer was not what she wanted to hear.

"Not that I know of," he said, "Believe me, though. If there is a way, I _will_ find it." His hand reached out to rest on hers. Instinctively, she pulled away from him. He flinched as if she had slapped him, and stood up from the bed.

"You should probably get some more rest," he told her, "you have recently been through some very trying experiences."

Sarah watched him, and she was swimming in confusion. No, it felt more like drowning. She needed something to hang on to.

"Jareth, I'm sorry if I've hurt you in some way, but I want you to tell me what's happened. I have a right to know."

"Soon," he promised, "But not now. Right now is just too soon."

She wasn't sure if he meant too soon for her, or too soon for himself. He looked at her once more, then turned and left the room.

The sun outside was setting, and Sarah found upon reflection that she was in fact still tired. So she let herself sink into the luxurious silk sheets and feather pillows, and was soon asleep.

It was dark when she awoke, and chilly despite the blankets. As her eyes adjusted to the pale gray light of the moon, she looked around the room and found that the double doors that led out onto a small balcony hung open. She snuggled deeper under the covers and closed her eyes again. But she could not fall back asleep.

Sighing resignedly, she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and stepped out of bed. She went to the doors to close them, and then paused. The night sky was so beautiful that she stepped outside to have a better look. The moon shone round and bright among a thousand stars, and the sky was not only black, but also laced with deep hues of purple and blue. She leaned forward against the stone balustrade, feeling that if she only reached out a hand, she could catch a star.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" said a voice from the shadows.

Sarah nearly yelped in fright, and spun around to face the intruder. No one was there. Then a figure stepped out of a shadow by the door, hands raised in a conciliatory gesture.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you," the strange man said, "And I know that you don't recognize me right now, but please understand that I mean you no harm."

Sarah eyed him suspiciously, "Who are you? And what do you know about my memory?"

Slowly he lowered his hands, and took a small step towards her.

"My name is Lior. I know that your memory has been erased up to the moment you were reintroduced to the world of the Underground. I know who erased it, and why. And I know you, Sarah Williams."

His amber eyes watched her intently, and she faltered under his gaze. He looked so certain, and she wanted so much to believe that _someone _knew what had happened to her, and could tell her about it. That someone seemed to be here in front of her.

"Alright," she said finally, "tell me."

"This is all going to seem strange and hard to believe," he cautioned, "and I am here to tell it to you perhaps against my better judgment. But I think you have a right to know your own past."

"I appreciate that," Sarah replied carefully. The man's expression was one of open sincerity, but there was a certain something about him that felt not quite right, threatening even.

"Time works differently in the Underground," he began, "It moves sometimes faster, sometimes slower than it does Aboveground, and sometimes at exactly the same pace. You defeated Jareth's Labyrinth what would be four years ago for you. It was one year for him. And one year was not enough to cool his temper at having lost _and _been rejected in his suit…but it was enough for him to plan. So he made a plan to get his revenge. And then, two months ago, he stole you from your home and brought you back to the Underground. There he gave you a room in his castle, where you were free to roam the castle and the grounds, but not to leave. Besides this mild imprisonment, he was kind to you. As the only intelligent companion available to you in the kingdom, you sought his company even though you were angry with him. Without a baby brother to rescue, it wasn't long before you fell for his charms and wiles. When he had successfully seduced you and you no longer thought of leaving, he began taking you out with him to social events, parties and balls. That was how we met. It was at a ball, and I was smitten the moment I saw you. We talked, I made you laugh. Jareth was immediately jealous and angry. He threatened me, and wouldn't let me near you the rest of the night, nor any other night when we should happen to meet from then after. But I had to see you again. So one day I appeared to you while you were talking a long walk on the grounds of the castle, well away from _him. _You were nervous that I was there, because you knew he wouldn't like it. Yet still you talked to me. And soon it became a habit of ours, meeting in the gardens. It was always just to talk, nothing more. Or so you insisted. We both knew it was something more than that. Though you wouldn't admit it, we were in love. And I could see that Jareth was stifling you, keeping you cooped up in his castle like that. I begged you to run away with me over and over again, but each time you refused. Then one day, finally, you said yes. We planned the escape for that very evening. Then when I came for you that night, you weren't there. But Jareth was. He had been watching us from one of his crystals, and heard us plan your escape. He was furious. I put up a brief fight, but unfortunately in terms of magic, at least, I'm no match for him. So I left in shame, and he kept you under his guard more closely than ever. But things just weren't the same after that. You finally admitted to yourself and boldly to Jareth that you loved me, and nothing he did could make you forget me and fall back into his arms. At last it came to the point where he decided that if he couldn't persuade you to forget me, he would make sure that it was literally so. If it meant that he himself would have to start all over again, so be it.

I only know this because I heard him muttering to himself one night when I returned to the castle with renewed intent to come rescue you. He had you too well guarded for that, so I was only able to discern his plan. It was terrible to know that there was nothing I could do, but so it was. I assume that after that he gave you one of those special fruits that- ah, I see by your face that you've encountered them before. A peach, perhaps? Yes, I thought so. Well, since then I've been waiting around here, hoping just for the chance to see you and explain. And here I've found it! He's got all the castle gates and doors well watched, but it seems he forgot about this one balcony."

He reached out his arms to her, and Sarah almost ran right to him like a fool. Instead she restrained herself to merely taking his hands in hers. His voice had a hypnotic quality to it, and his story had entranced her like a spell. How could she have ever trusted Jareth, even for a minute? She had almost fallen into his plan, too. She had hardly been awake for more than ten minutes before she had kissed him, of her on inclination! _But he had such sad eyes, _she recalled. And suddenly the same question he had posed for her came back to her now.

"Why should I trust you?" she asked the beautiful man with amber eyes and a romantic story.

Lior's smile did not falter, but a spark of something unpleasant flashed oh-so-quickly in his eyes.

"You don't have to trust me right now. You don't have to do anything. I just thought you should know, so you'll have something to compare to whatever phony story Jareth cooks up to explain this. I also want you to know that the offer still stands. If ever you find you want to escape from here, just call for me. I would ask you to come now, but I fear I know the answer to that. So, whenever you're ready."

"But how will you hear me?" she asked, caught up in his drama despite herself.

He smiled like he had a delightful secret to share. Then he let go of one of her hands, and pulled from his jacket a single, tiny blue flower.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked playfully.

"It's a forget-me-not," she replied.

"A hope," he said.

She had to admit he was very dashing: handsome in a way completely different from Jareth's sharp features and piercing eyes.

"All you need do," he continued, "is throw this flower into the air, say my name, and I will hear you, wherever I am."

"And you'll come for me?"

"I'll come for you," he confirmed. Then he took her hand once more, and kissed it gently.

"Until then," he said, and quietly disappeared.

Sarah was left standing alone on the balcony, more bewildered than ever. Eventually she became aware of the cold stone beneath her bare feet, and she went inside and shut the door. Then she crawled back into bed, (_his bed, _she remembered, but was too tired and confused to care.) She could only hope that she would be able to think about all of this better when she had gotten some proper rest.

When Lior returned to the room where he and Cassia had arranged to meet, she was already there waiting for him. She frowned at his appearance and crossed her arms, surveying him with haughty impatience.

"I don't like this, Lior" she said.

Lior exhaled slowly. This woman had been nothing but trouble for him since they agreed to work together.

"And what, pray tell, do you not like, Cassia darling?"

"It will take far too long, and there is too much room for error. Why can't we make our revenge swift and painful, before the Council has Jareth's hearing and his punishment falls to their hands?"

"This plan will play out before then, I promise you," he reassured her, "And just think. Think of how sweet it will be to have such exact revenge. Can't you see what a blow it will be when his new love betrays him just as he betrayed you? He will be a broken man."

A malicious smile stole over Cassia's delicate features.

"Yes, of course, you are right," she conceded, "It will be worth the wait: and perhaps more satisfying in the long term than making him bleed for his crimes."

"And when it is done?"

Cassia looked briefly annoyed, "Yes, yes. When it is done you will have Jareth's part of the Kingdom. Unlike some, I keep my promises. Though I hardly understand why you want any part of a horrid little kingdom like this."

"Oh, social standing," Lior replied casually.

Then he turned away from her, and allowed himself a single, satisfied smile. So far, everything was going well.


End file.
